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 77
Strana 2
... peace of the present , we will not hand a rope more ; use your authority . If you cannot , give thanks you have lived so long , and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour , if it so hap . Cheerly , good hearts ...
... peace of the present , we will not hand a rope more ; use your authority . If you cannot , give thanks you have lived so long , and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour , if it so hap . Cheerly , good hearts ...
Strana 15
... peace . Seb . He receives comfort like cold porridge . Ant . The visitor will not give him o'er so . Seb . Look , he's winding up the watch of his wit ; By and by it will strike . Gon . Sir , - Seb . One - Tell . Gon . When every grief ...
... peace . Seb . He receives comfort like cold porridge . Ant . The visitor will not give him o'er so . Seb . Look , he's winding up the watch of his wit ; By and by it will strike . Gon . Sir , - Seb . One - Tell . Gon . When every grief ...
Strana 17
... peace . Seb . You were kneel'd to , and importun'd otherwise By all of us ; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd , between lothness and obedience , at Which end o ' the beam she'd bow . We have lost your son , I fear , for ever : Milan and ...
... peace . Seb . You were kneel'd to , and importun'd otherwise By all of us ; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd , between lothness and obedience , at Which end o ' the beam she'd bow . We have lost your son , I fear , for ever : Milan and ...
Strana 32
... peace : Thee , of thy son , Alonso , They have bereft ; and do pronounce by me , Ling ring perdition ( worse than any death Can be at once , ) shall step by step attend You , and your ways ; whose wraths to guard you from ( Which here ...
... peace : Thee , of thy son , Alonso , They have bereft ; and do pronounce by me , Ling ring perdition ( worse than any death Can be at once , ) shall step by step attend You , and your ways ; whose wraths to guard you from ( Which here ...
Strana 37
... peace . Enter ARIEL . Ari . Thy thoughts I cleave to : What's thy pleasure ? Pro . We must prepare to meet with Caliban . Ari . Ay , my commander ; when I presented Ceres , I thought to have told thee of it ; but I fear'd Lest I might ...
... peace . Enter ARIEL . Ari . Thy thoughts I cleave to : What's thy pleasure ? Pro . We must prepare to meet with Caliban . Ari . Ay , my commander ; when I presented Ceres , I thought to have told thee of it ; but I fear'd Lest I might ...
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.