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 79
Strana 13
... speak of Naples : He does hear me ; And that he does I weep : myself am Naples ; Who with mine eyes , never since at ebb , beheld The king my father wrack'd . Mira . Alack , for mercy ! Fer . Yes , faith , and all his lords ; the duke ...
... speak of Naples : He does hear me ; And that he does I weep : myself am Naples ; Who with mine eyes , never since at ebb , beheld The king my father wrack'd . Mira . Alack , for mercy ! Fer . Yes , faith , and all his lords ; the duke ...
Strana 17
... speak doth lack some gentleness , And time to speak it in ; you rub the sore , When you should bring the plaster . Seb . Ant . And most chirurgeonly . Gon . Very well . It is foul weather in us all , good sir , When you are cloudy . Seb ...
... speak doth lack some gentleness , And time to speak it in ; you rub the sore , When you should bring the plaster . Seb . Ant . And most chirurgeonly . Gon . Very well . It is foul weather in us all , good sir , When you are cloudy . Seb ...
Strana 19
... speak ? I do ; and , surely , It is a sleepy language ; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep : What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose , to be asleep With eyes wide open ; standing , speaking , moving , And yet so fast asleep ...
... speak ? I do ; and , surely , It is a sleepy language ; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep : What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose , to be asleep With eyes wide open ; standing , speaking , moving , And yet so fast asleep ...
Strana 23
... speak well of his friend ; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches , and to detract . If all the wine in my bottle will recover him , I will help his ague : Come - Amen ! I will pour some in thy other mouth . Trin . Stephano ...
... speak well of his friend ; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches , and to detract . If all the wine in my bottle will recover him , I will help his ague : Come - Amen ! I will pour some in thy other mouth . Trin . Stephano ...
Strana 59
... speak in print , for in print I found it.- Why muse you , sir ? ' tis dinner time . Val . I have dined . Speed . Ay , but hearken , sir ; though the cameleon Love can feed on the air , I am one that am nourished by my victuals , and ...
... speak in print , for in print I found it.- Why muse you , sir ? ' tis dinner time . Val . I have dined . Speed . Ay , but hearken , sir ; though the cameleon Love can feed on the air , I am one that am nourished by my victuals , and ...
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.