The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: King Lear. Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. OthelloPhillips, Sampson, 1851 - 38 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 90
11 psl.
... poor , and speech unable ; Beyond all manner of so much I love you.3 Cor . What shall Cordelia do ? Love , and be silent . [ Aside . Lear . Of all these bounds , even from this line to this , With shadowy forests and with champains ...
... poor , and speech unable ; Beyond all manner of so much I love you.3 Cor . What shall Cordelia do ? Love , and be silent . [ Aside . Lear . Of all these bounds , even from this line to this , With shadowy forests and with champains ...
12 psl.
... poor Cordelia ! [ Aside . And yet not so ; since , I am sure , my love's More richer than my tongue . Lear . To thee , and thine , hereditary ever , Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom ; No less in space , validity , ' and ...
... poor Cordelia ! [ Aside . And yet not so ; since , I am sure , my love's More richer than my tongue . Lear . To thee , and thine , hereditary ever , Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom ; No less in space , validity , ' and ...
18 psl.
... poor ; Most choice , forsaken ; and most loved , despised ' Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon ; Be it lawful , I take up what's cast away . Gods , gods ! ' tis strange , that from their cold'st neglect , My love should kindle to ...
... poor ; Most choice , forsaken ; and most loved , despised ' Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon ; Be it lawful , I take up what's cast away . Gods , gods ! ' tis strange , that from their cold'st neglect , My love should kindle to ...
19 psl.
... poor judgment he hath now cast her off , appears too grossly . Reg . ' Tis the infirmity of his age ; yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself . 1 We have here professed for professing . It has been elsewhere ob- served that ...
... poor judgment he hath now cast her off , appears too grossly . Reg . ' Tis the infirmity of his age ; yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself . 1 We have here professed for professing . It has been elsewhere ob- served that ...
28 psl.
... poor as the king . Lear . If thou be as poor for a subject , as he is for a king , thou art poor enough . What wouldst thou ? Kent . Service . Lear . Who wouldst thou serve ? Kent . You . Lear . Dost thou know me , fellow ? Kent . No ...
... poor as the king . Lear . If thou be as poor for a subject , as he is for a king , thou art poor enough . What wouldst thou ? Kent . Service . Lear . Who wouldst thou serve ? Kent . You . Lear . Dost thou know me , fellow ? Kent . No ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: Pericles. King Lear. Romeo and ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1818 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
art thou Benvolio blood Brabantio CAPULET Cassio Cordelia Cyprus daughter dead dear death Denmark Desdemona dost thou doth duke Edmund Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear folio reads fool Fortinbras friar Gent gentleman give Gloster GONERIL grief Hamlet hand hath hear heart Heaven Horatio Iago is't Juliet Kent king King Lear knave lady Laer Laertes Lear letter look lord madam Mantua marry matter means Mercutio Michael Cassio murder never night noble Nurse o'er old copies Ophelia Othello play POLONIUS poor Pr'ythee pray quarto reads Queen Regan Roderigo Romeo SCENE Shakspeare soul speak speech Steevens sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast to-night Tybalt Verona villain wife word
Populiarios ištraukos
306 psl. - O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing...
208 psl. - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
456 psl. - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
331 psl. - In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
72 psl. - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
13 psl. - Why have my sisters husbands, if they say They love you all ? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my love with him, half my care and duty : Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, To love my father all.
349 psl. - Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do ; Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't.
431 psl. - Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
133 psl. - The weight of this sad time we must obey ; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most : we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
169 psl. - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...