Works: Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. Comedy of errors. Much ado about nothing. Love's labour's lost. A midsummer-night's dream. The merchant of Venice. As you like it. Taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night, or What you will. Winter's tale. King JohnG. Routledge, 1889 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 75
Strana 3
... never meddle with my thoughts . Pro . ' T is time I should inform thee farther . Lend thy hand , And pluck my magic garment from me . - So ; [ Lays down his mantle . Lie there my art . - Wipe thou thine eyes ; have comfort . The direful ...
... never meddle with my thoughts . Pro . ' T is time I should inform thee farther . Lend thy hand , And pluck my magic garment from me . - So ; [ Lays down his mantle . Lie there my art . - Wipe thou thine eyes ; have comfort . The direful ...
Strana 13
... never since at ebb , beheld The king my father wrack'd . Mira . Alack , for mercy ! Fer . Yes , faith , and all his lords ; the duke of Milan , And his brave son , being twain . The duke of Milan , [ Aside . Pro . And his more braver ...
... never since at ebb , beheld The king my father wrack'd . Mira . Alack , for mercy ! Fer . Yes , faith , and all his lords ; the duke of Milan , And his brave son , being twain . The duke of Milan , [ Aside . Pro . And his more braver ...
Strana 16
... never graced before with such a paragon to their queen . Gon . Not since widow Dido's time . Ant . Widow ? a pox o ' that ! How came that widow in ? Widow Dido ! Seb . What if he had said , widower Eneas too ? good lord , how you take ...
... never graced before with such a paragon to their queen . Gon . Not since widow Dido's time . Ant . Widow ? a pox o ' that ! How came that widow in ? Widow Dido ! Seb . What if he had said , widower Eneas too ? good lord , how you take ...
Strana 34
... never melt Mine honour into lust ; to take away The edge of that day's celebration , When I shall think , or Phoebus ' steeds are founder'd , Or night kept chain'd below . Pro . Fairly spoke : Sit then , and talk with her , she is thine ...
... never melt Mine honour into lust ; to take away The edge of that day's celebration , When I shall think , or Phoebus ' steeds are founder'd , Or night kept chain'd below . Pro . Fairly spoke : Sit then , and talk with her , she is thine ...
Strana 36
... never empty ; Vines with clust'ring bunches growing ; Plants with goodly burthen bowing ; Spring come to you , at the farthest , In the very end of harvest ! Scarcity and want shall shun you ; Ceres ' blessing so is on you . Fer . This ...
... never empty ; Vines with clust'ring bunches growing ; Plants with goodly burthen bowing ; Spring come to you , at the farthest , In the very end of harvest ! Scarcity and want shall shun you ; Ceres ' blessing so is on you . Fer . This ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
Angelo art thou Bast Beat Benedick better Biron blood Boyet brother Caius Claud Claudio COSTARD daughter dear death dost thou doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faulconbridge fear fool Ford gentle gentleman give grace Gremio hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour husband Illyria Isab John Kath King knave lady Laun Leon Leonato look lord Lucio Lysander madam maid Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress Moth never night pardon Pedro Pompey pray prince prithee Proteus Puck Re-enter Rosalind SCENE servant Shylock signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK soul speak Speed swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue Tranio troth true unto villain What's wife woman word
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 793 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Strana 464 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam. The seasons' difference, — as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 'This is no flattery' — these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.