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The Plays of William Shakespeare With the Corrections and ..., 12 tomas
Visos knygos peržiūra - 1809
Achilles Agam Ajax ancient appears arms bear beauty better blood breath called cause comes copy Cres dead dear death doth earth edition editors Enter eyes face fair fall father fear folio fortune Friar give Greeks hand hart hast hath head hear heart heaven Hector honour Johnson Juliet keep King kiss lady leave light live look lord lovers Malone means mind nature never night Nurse observed once Paris passage perhaps play present prince quarto reading rest Romeo Romeus scene seems sense Serv Shakspeare speak speech stand Steevens suppose sweet sword tears tell thee Ther theyr thing thou thou art thought Troilus Troy true Tybalt Ulyss unto wise
272 psl. - For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give...
42 psl. - And, hark, what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
267 psl. - This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
243 psl. - Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; The traces, of the smallest spider's web ; The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams...
294 psl. - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume : the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite : Therefore love moderately ; long love doth so ; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
384 psl. - A glooming peace this morning with it brings : The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head...
323 psl. - Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day : It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
226 psl. - That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew ; Nor did I wonder at the...
264 psl. - What's in a name ? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.