The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, from the text of Johnson, Stevens [sic], and Reed, with glossarial notes, Díl 47,Svazek 1 |
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Strana 164
... Silvia ! Silvia ! Speed . Madam Silvia ! Madam Silvia ! Val . How now , sirrah ? Speed . She is not within hearing , Sir . Val . Why , Sir , who bade you call her ? Speed . Your worship , Sir ; or else I mistook . Val . Well , you'll ...
... Silvia ! Silvia ! Speed . Madam Silvia ! Madam Silvia ! Val . How now , sirrah ? Speed . She is not within hearing , Sir . Val . Why , Sir , who bade you call her ? Speed . Your worship , Sir ; or else I mistook . Val . Well , you'll ...
Strana 165
... Silvia ? Speed . She , that you gaze on so , as she sits at supper ? Val . Hast thou observed that ? even she I mean . Speed . Why , Sir , I know her not . Val . Dost thou know her by my gazing on her , and yet know'st her not ? Speed ...
... Silvia ? Speed . She , that you gaze on so , as she sits at supper ? Val . Hast thou observed that ? even she I mean . Speed . Why , Sir , I know her not . Val . Dost thou know her by my gazing on her , and yet know'st her not ? Speed ...
Strana 166
... SILVIA . Speed . O excellent motion ! + O exceeding puppet ! now will he interpret to her . Val . Madam and mistress , a thousand good - morrows . Speed . O , ' give you good even ! Here's a million of manners . [ Aside . Sil . Sir ...
... SILVIA . Speed . O excellent motion ! + O exceeding puppet ! now will he interpret to her . Val . Madam and mistress , a thousand good - morrows . Speed . O , ' give you good even ! Here's a million of manners . [ Aside . Sil . Sir ...
Strana 167
... SILVIA . · As a nose on a man's face , or a weathercock on a steeple ! My master sues to her ; and she hath taught her suitor , He being her pupil , to become her tutor . O excellent device ! was there ever heard a better ? That my ...
... SILVIA . · As a nose on a man's face , or a weathercock on a steeple ! My master sues to her ; and she hath taught her suitor , He being her pupil , to become her tutor . O excellent device ! was there ever heard a better ? That my ...
Strana 169
... SILVIA , THURIO , and SPEED . . Sil . Servant- Val . Mistress ? Speed . Master , Sir Thurio frowns on you . Val . Ay , boy , it's for love . Speed . Not of you . Val . Of my mistress , then . Speed . " Twere good , you knocked him . Sil ...
... SILVIA , THURIO , and SPEED . . Sil . Servant- Val . Mistress ? Speed . Master , Sir Thurio frowns on you . Val . Ay , boy , it's for love . Speed . Not of you . Val . Of my mistress , then . Speed . " Twere good , you knocked him . Sil ...
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Angelo Antonio art thou Bass Bassanio Beat Benedick better Biron Boyet brother Caius Caliban Claud Claudio COSTARD daughter dear Demetrius Dogb doth ducats Duke Enter Escal Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fear fool Ford friar gentle gentleman give grace hath hear heart heaven Hermia Hero hither honour Host Illyria Isab King lady Laun Leon Leonato look lord Lucio Lysander Madam maid Malvolio marry master constable master doctor mistress Moth never night Pedro Pompey pr'ythee Proteus Prov Puck Re-enter Rosalind SCENE Shal Shylock signior Silvia sing SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Toby Slen soul speak Speed swear sweet tell thank there's Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio to-morrow tongue troth true Valentine What's woman word youth
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Strana 463 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Strana 76 - A blank, my lord : She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought ; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Strana 415 - In sooth, I know not why I am so sad: It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn ; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself.
Strana 348 - The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was.
Strana 492 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Strana 454 - The slaves are ours : — So do I answer you : The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, Is dearly bought, is mine, and I will have it : If you deny me, fie upon your law ! There is no force in the decrees of Venice : I stand for judgment : answer ; shall I have it?
Strana 391 - And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. Never durst poet touch a pen to write, Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs ; O, then his lines would ravish savage ears, And plant in tyrants mild humility. From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world; Else, none at all in aught proves excellent: Then fools you were, these...
Strana 138 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Strana 413 - When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;...
Strana 43 - Mrs. Page. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, Doth all the winter time, at still midnight, Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns ; And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle8; And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain In a most hideous and dreadful manner.