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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Strana 33
... pray you : I thought that all things had been savage here ; And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment . But whate'er you are , That in this desert inaccessible , Under the shade of melancholy boughs , Lose and neglect ...
... pray you : I thought that all things had been savage here ; And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment . But whate'er you are , That in this desert inaccessible , Under the shade of melancholy boughs , Lose and neglect ...
Strana 42
... pray you , mar no more trees with writing love- songs in their barks . Orl . I pray you , mar no more of them ill - favouredly . Jaq . Rosalind is your love's name ? my verses with reading Orl . Yes , just . Jaq . I do 42 LACT III . AS ...
... pray you , mar no more trees with writing love- songs in their barks . Orl . I pray you , mar no more of them ill - favouredly . Jaq . Rosalind is your love's name ? my verses with reading Orl . Yes , just . Jaq . I do 42 LACT III . AS ...
Strana 43
... pray you , what is't o ' clock ? Orl . You should ask me , what time o ' day : there's no clock in the forest . Ros . Then there is no true lover in the forest ; else sigh- ing every minute , and groaning every hour , would detect the ...
... pray you , what is't o ' clock ? Orl . You should ask me , what time o ' day : there's no clock in the forest . Ros . Then there is no true lover in the forest ; else sigh- ing every minute , and groaning every hour , would detect the ...
Strana 45
... pray you , tell me your remedy . Ros . There is none of my uncle's marks upon you : he taught me how to know a man in love ; in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner . Orl . What were his marks ? Ros . A lean cheek ...
... pray you , tell me your remedy . Ros . There is none of my uncle's marks upon you : he taught me how to know a man in love ; in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner . Orl . What were his marks ? Ros . A lean cheek ...
Strana 47
... pray the gods make me honest . Touch . Truly , and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut , were to put good meat into an unclean dish . Aud . I am not a slut , though I thank the gods I am foul . Touch . Well , praised be the gods for ...
... pray the gods make me honest . Touch . Truly , and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut , were to put good meat into an unclean dish . Aud . I am not a slut , though I thank the gods I am foul . Touch . Well , praised be the gods for ...
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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...