CymbelineJames Forsyth, Leadenhall Street, and John Greig, High Street, Edinburgh, 1811 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 54
Strana 6
... mothers , Evil - ey'd unto you : you are my prisoner , but Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys , That lock up your restraint . For you , Posthumus , So soon as I can win the offended king , I will be known your advocate : marry , yet ...
... mothers , Evil - ey'd unto you : you are my prisoner , but Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys , That lock up your restraint . For you , Posthumus , So soon as I can win the offended king , I will be known your advocate : marry , yet ...
Strana 7
... mother's : take it , heart ; But keep it till you woo another wife , When Imogen is dead .. Post . How ! how ! another ? You gentle gods , give me but this I have , And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death ! -Remain ...
... mother's : take it , heart ; But keep it till you woo another wife , When Imogen is dead .. Post . How ! how ! another ? You gentle gods , give me but this I have , And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death ! -Remain ...
Strana 29
... mother : every jack - slave hath his belly full of fighting , and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match . 2 Lord . You are a cock and capon too ; and you erow , cock , with your comb on . [ Aside . Clo . Sayest thou ...
... mother : every jack - slave hath his belly full of fighting , and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match . 2 Lord . You are a cock and capon too ; and you erow , cock , with your comb on . [ Aside . Clo . Sayest thou ...
Strana 30
... mother Should yield the world this ass ! a woman , that Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son Cannot take two from twenty for his heart , And leave eighteen . Alas , poor princess , Thou divine Imogen , what thou endur'st ...
... mother Should yield the world this ass ! a woman , that Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son Cannot take two from twenty for his heart , And leave eighteen . Alas , poor princess , Thou divine Imogen , what thou endur'st ...
Strana 34
... mother . Cym . Attend you here the door of our stern daughter ? Will she not forth ? Clo . I have assailed her with music , but she vouch- safes no notice . Cym . The exile of her minion is too new ; She hath not yet forgot him : some ...
... mother . Cym . Attend you here the door of our stern daughter ? Will she not forth ? Clo . I have assailed her with music , but she vouch- safes no notice . Cym . The exile of her minion is too new ; She hath not yet forgot him : some ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
Aaron Andronicus art thou Bassianus Bawd better blood Boult brother CHIRON Cleon Cloten Cordelia Corn Cymbeline daughter dead death Dionyza dost doth duke of Cornwall Edmund emperor empress Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear Fool friends Gent gentleman give Gloster gods Goneril Goths grace GUIDERIUS hand hath hear heart heaven Helicanus hither honour i'the Iach IACHIMO Imogen Kent king lady Lavinia Lear look lord Lucius Lysimachus madam Marcus Marina master mistress Mitylene never night noble o'the Pericles Pisanio poison'd poor Post Posthumus pr'ythee pray prince prince of Tyre queen Regan revenge Roman Rome Saturninus SCENE sons sorrow speak Stew sweet sword Tamora tears tell Thaisa thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast Titus TITUS ANDRONICUS villain
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 81 - Sc. 2. no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Strana 378 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Strana 352 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these?
Strana 307 - This is the excellent foppery of the world ! that, when we are sick in fortune, (often the surfeit of our own behaviour,) we make guilty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars...
Strana 382 - With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are Centaurs, Though women all above : But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends' ; there's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit, burning, scalding, stench, consumption ; — fie, fie, fie ! pah, pah ! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination : there's money for thee.
Strana 297 - For, by the sacred radiance of the sun ; The mysteries of Hecate, and the night : By all the operations of the orbs, From whom we do exist, and cease to be : Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Propinquity and property of blood, And as a stranger to my heart and me Hold thee, from this, for ever.
Strana 296 - Why have my sisters husbands, if they say, They love you, all ? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry Half my love with him, half my care, and duty : Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, To love my father all.
Strana 33 - SONG Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus gins arise His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes; With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise, Arise, arise.
Strana 378 - ... down Hangs one that gathers samphire, — dreadful trade ! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head : The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice ; and yond...
Strana 390 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night : Do not laugh at me; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.