The works of Shakespear, with a glossary, pr. from the Oxford ed. in quarto, 1744 [by Sir T.Hanmer]. |
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53 psl.
... poft is come . Sirrah , what tidings ? have you any letters ? Shall I have juftice , what fays Jupiter ? Clow . Who ? the gibbet - maker ? he fays that he hath taken them down again , for the man muft not be hang'd ' till the next week ...
... poft is come . Sirrah , what tidings ? have you any letters ? Shall I have juftice , what fays Jupiter ? Clow . Who ? the gibbet - maker ? he fays that he hath taken them down again , for the man muft not be hang'd ' till the next week ...
80 psl.
... poft on poft , and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence , And pour'd them down before him . Ang . We are fent , To give thee , from our royal mafter , thanks , Only to herald thee into his fight , Not pay thee ...
... poft on poft , and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence , And pour'd them down before him . Ang . We are fent , To give thee , from our royal mafter , thanks , Only to herald thee into his fight , Not pay thee ...
239 psl.
... Poft . Please your Highness , I will from hence to - day . Queen . You know the peril : I'M fetch a turn about the garden , pitying The pangs of barr'd affections , though the King Hath charg'd you fhould not fpeak together . Imo ...
... Poft . Please your Highness , I will from hence to - day . Queen . You know the peril : I'M fetch a turn about the garden , pitying The pangs of barr'd affections , though the King Hath charg'd you fhould not fpeak together . Imo ...
240 psl.
... Poft . My Queen ! my mistress ! O Lady , weep no more , left I give caufe To be fufpected of more tenderness Than doth become a man . I will remain The loyall'ft hufband , that did e'er plight troth ; My refidence in Rome , at one ...
... Poft . My Queen ! my mistress ! O Lady , weep no more , left I give caufe To be fufpected of more tenderness Than doth become a man . I will remain The loyall'ft hufband , that did e'er plight troth ; My refidence in Rome , at one ...
241 psl.
... Poft . Alack , the King ! Enter Cymbeline , and Lords . Cym . Thou baseft thing , avoid , hence , from my fight : If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy unworthiness , thou dy'st . Thou'rt poison to my blood . Poft . The ...
... Poft . Alack , the King ! Enter Cymbeline , and Lords . Cym . Thou baseft thing , avoid , hence , from my fight : If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy unworthiness , thou dy'st . Thou'rt poison to my blood . Poft . The ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The works of Shakespear, with a glossary, pr. from the Oxford ed. in quarto ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1747 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Achilles Afide Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Baffianus Banquo blood brother Calchas Clot Cloten Creffid Cymbeline defire Diomede doft doth Emperor Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fafe falfe fear felf fervice fhall fhew fhould fight flain fleep fome fons forrow foul fpeak ftand ftill ftrange fuch fure fweet fword Goths Guiderius hand hath heart heav'n Hector himſelf honour i'th Iach Imogen King Lady Lavinia Lord Lucius Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff Mach mafter Marcus Menelaus moft muft muſt Neft noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Pifanio pleaſe Poft Pofthumus prefent Priam Prince purpoſe Queen reafon Roffe Rome Saturnine SCENE ſelf ſhall ſhe ſpeak Tamora tell Thane thee thefe Ther there's Therfites theſe thofe thoſe thou art thouſand Titus Titus Andronicus Troi Troilus Trojan Ulyf what's whofe Witch
Populiarios ištraukos
191 psl. - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past : which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
206 psl. - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
83 psl. - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters : — To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
91 psl. - What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
85 psl. - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
111 psl. - Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake : Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog...
106 psl. - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
103 psl. - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!
127 psl. - To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand: what's done cannot be undone: to bed, to bed, to bed.
91 psl. - Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil.