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 100
Strana 29
... heart in thee ? Live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer thyself a little . If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage , I will either be food for it , or bring it for food to thee . Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers . For ...
... heart in thee ? Live a little ; comfort a little ; cheer thyself a little . If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage , I will either be food for it , or bring it for food to thee . Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers . For ...
Strana 36
... heart in this ! I never lov'd my brother in my life . Duke F. More villain thou . - Well , push him out of doors ; And let my officers of such a nature Make an extent upon his house and lands : Do this expediently , and turn him going ...
... heart in this ! I never lov'd my brother in my life . Duke F. More villain thou . - Well , push him out of doors ; And let my officers of such a nature Make an extent upon his house and lands : Do this expediently , and turn him going ...
Strana 40
... heart ; Cleopatra's majesty ; Atalanta's better part ; Sad Lucretia's modesty . Thus Rosalind of many parts By heavenly synod was devis'd ; Of many faces , eyes , and hearts , To have the touches dearest priz'd . Heaven would that she ...
... heart ; Cleopatra's majesty ; Atalanta's better part ; Sad Lucretia's modesty . Thus Rosalind of many parts By heavenly synod was devis'd ; Of many faces , eyes , and hearts , To have the touches dearest priz'd . Heaven would that she ...
Strana 41
... heart both in an instant . Ros . Nay , but the devil take mocking : speak , sad brow and true maid . Cel . I ' faith , coz , ' tis he . Ros . Orlando ? Cel . Orlando . Ros . Alas the day ! what shall I do with my doublet and hose ? What ...
... heart both in an instant . Ros . Nay , but the devil take mocking : speak , sad brow and true maid . Cel . I ' faith , coz , ' tis he . Ros . Orlando ? Cel . Orlando . Ros . Alas the day ! what shall I do with my doublet and hose ? What ...
Strana 42
... heart . Cel . I would sing my song without a burden : thou bringest me out of tune . Ros . Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think , I must speak . Sweet , say on . Cel . You bring me out . - Soft ! comes he not here ? Ros . " Tis ...
... heart . Cel . I would sing my song without a burden : thou bringest me out of tune . Ros . Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think , I must speak . Sweet , say on . Cel . You bring me out . - Soft ! comes he not here ? Ros . " Tis ...
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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...