The plays of William Shakspeare, pr. from the text of the corrected copies left by G. Steevens and E. Malone, with a selection of notes from the most eminent commentors by A. Chalmers, 5 tomas |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 80
10 psl.
... sweet disgrace , And make thee rich for doing me such wrong . Mor . You are too great to be by me gainsaid : Your spirit is too true , your fears too certain . 8 North . Yet , for all this , say not that Percy's dead . I see a strange ...
... sweet disgrace , And make thee rich for doing me such wrong . Mor . You are too great to be by me gainsaid : Your spirit is too true , your fears too certain . 8 North . Yet , for all this , say not that Percy's dead . I see a strange ...
13 psl.
... Sweet earl , divorce not wisdom from your honour . Mor . The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health ; the which , if you give o'er To stormy passion , must perforce decay . You cast the event of war , my noble lord , And ...
... Sweet earl , divorce not wisdom from your honour . Mor . The lives of all your loving complices Lean on your health ; the which , if you give o'er To stormy passion , must perforce decay . You cast the event of war , my noble lord , And ...
21 psl.
... sweet wit for it . But look you pray , all you that kiss my lady peace at home , that our armies join not in a hot day ! for , by the Lord , I take but two shirts out with me , and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily if it be a hot day ...
... sweet wit for it . But look you pray , all you that kiss my lady peace at home , that our armies join not in a hot day ! for , by the Lord , I take but two shirts out with me , and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily if it be a hot day ...
39 psl.
... sweet Harry had but half their numbers , To - day might I , hanging on Hotspur's neck , Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave . North . Beshrew your heart , Fair daughter ! you do draw my spirits from me , With new lamenting ancient ...
... sweet Harry had but half their numbers , To - day might I , hanging on Hotspur's neck , Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave . North . Beshrew your heart , Fair daughter ! you do draw my spirits from me , With new lamenting ancient ...
41 psl.
... sweet heart , methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality : your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire ; and your colour , I warrant you , is as red as any rose : But , i'faith , you have drunk too much ...
... sweet heart , methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality : your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire ; and your colour , I warrant you , is as red as any rose : But , i'faith , you have drunk too much ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alarum arms Bard Bardolph bear blood brother Cade captain Clar Clarence Clif Clifford crown Dauphin dead death doth duke of Burgundy duke of York earl Edward England English Enter King HENRY Exeter Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff father fear fight France French friends give Gloster grace hand Harfleur hath head hear heart heaven Henry's honour house of Lancaster house of York Jack Cade JOHNSON liege live look lord lord protector majesty MALONE Margaret master never night noble Northumberland peace Pist Pistol play Poins pray prince PUCELLE queen Reignier Richard RICHARD PLANTAGENET Saint Albans Salisbury SCENE Shakspeare Shal shame sir John sir John Falstaff soldiers Somerset soul sovereign speak Suffolk sweet sword Talbot tell thee thine thou art thou hast traitor unto valiant Warwick wilt words
Populiarios ištraukos
167 psl. - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
129 psl. - O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention ! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars ; and, at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire, Crouch for employment.
141 psl. - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their ( emperor...
168 psl. - Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding— which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
54 psl. - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king?
168 psl. - Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
208 psl. - Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd : This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered : We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me, Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er...
15 psl. - Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more than I invent, or is invented on me: I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
507 psl. - To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery ? * O, yes it doth ; a thousand fold it doth. * And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, * His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, * His wonted sleep .under a fresh tree's shade, * All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, * Is far beyond a prince's delicates, * His viands sparkling in a golden cup, * His body couched in a curious bed, * When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
54 psl. - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down...