The Works of William Shakespeare: As you like it. The taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth-night. The winter's taleChapman and Hall, 1866 |
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Výsledky 6-10 z 43
Strana 18
... the time , upon mine honour , And in the greatness of my word , you die . [ Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords . Cel . O my poor Rosalind ! whither wilt thou go ? Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee mine 18 [ ACT I. AS YOU LIKE IT .
... the time , upon mine honour , And in the greatness of my word , you die . [ Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords . Cel . O my poor Rosalind ! whither wilt thou go ? Wilt thou change fathers ? I will give thee mine 18 [ ACT I. AS YOU LIKE IT .
Strana 19
... Rosalind lacks , then , the love Which teacheth me ( 33 ) that thou and I am one : Shall we be sunder'd ? shall we part , sweet girl ? No : let my father seek another heir . Therefore devise with me how we may fly , Whither to go , and ...
... Rosalind lacks , then , the love Which teacheth me ( 33 ) that thou and I am one : Shall we be sunder'd ? shall we part , sweet girl ? No : let my father seek another heir . Therefore devise with me how we may fly , Whither to go , and ...
Strana 25
... ROSALIND in boy's clothes , CELIA drest like a shepherdess , and TOUCHSTONE . Ros . O Jupiter , how weary are my spirits ! Touch . I care not for my spirits , if my legs were not weary . Ros . I could find in my heart to disgrace my ...
... ROSALIND in boy's clothes , CELIA drest like a shepherdess , and TOUCHSTONE . Ros . O Jupiter , how weary are my spirits ! Touch . I care not for my spirits , if my legs were not weary . Ros . I could find in my heart to disgrace my ...
Strana 36
... Rosalind ! these trees shall be my books , And in their barks my thoughts I'll character ; That every eye , which in this forest looks , Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where . Run , run , Orlando ; carve on every tree The fair ...
... Rosalind ! these trees shall be my books , And in their barks my thoughts I'll character ; That every eye , which in this forest looks , Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where . Run , run , Orlando ; carve on every tree The fair ...
Strana 38
... ROSALIND , reading a paper . " From the east to western Ind , No jewel is like Rosalind . Her worth , being mounted on the wind , Through all the world bears Rosalind . All the pictures fairest lin'd Are but black to Rosalind . Let no ...
... ROSALIND , reading a paper . " From the east to western Ind , No jewel is like Rosalind . Her worth , being mounted on the wind , Through all the world bears Rosalind . All the pictures fairest lin'd Are but black to Rosalind . Let no ...
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altered Antigonus Baptista Bertram Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia brother Camillo Capell Collier's Corrector reads Count daughter doth Duke Enter Exam Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fool gentleman give Grant White Grumio Hanmer hath hear heart heaven honour Hortensio Illyria Kate Kath KATHARINA King knave lady Leon look lord Lucentio madam maid Malone Malvolio marry master mean mistress Narbon never Olivia Orlando Padua passage Petruchio play poor pray printed prithee Rosalind Rousillon SCENE second folio Shakespeare Shep Sicilia Signior Sir Andrew Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH speak speech Steevens swear sweet tell thee there's thine thing third folio thou art thou hast Tranio W. N. Lettsom Walker Walker's Crit wife Winter's Tale word
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 352 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: — Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones. Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love Like the old age.
Strana 354 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? We men may say more, swear more ; but indeed Our shows are more than will, for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. DuJce. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all...