Romeo and Juliet. With alterations, and an additional scene: by D. Garrick, as it is performed at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-laneJ. & R. Tonson and S. Draper, 1753 - 12 psl. |
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Rezultatai 15 iš 16
21 psl.
... father , and refuse thy name : Or if thou wilt not , be but fworn my love , And I'll no longer be a Capulet . [ Afide . Rom . Shall I hear more , or shall I speak at this ? Jul . ' Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; What's in a name ...
... father , and refuse thy name : Or if thou wilt not , be but fworn my love , And I'll no longer be a Capulet . [ Afide . Rom . Shall I hear more , or shall I speak at this ? Jul . ' Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; What's in a name ...
25 psl.
... father's cell , His help to crave , and my dear hap to tell . SCENE III A Monaftery . [ Exit . Enter Friar Lawrence with a basket . HE gray - ey'd morn fmiles on the frowning Fri. T THE night , Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks ...
... father's cell , His help to crave , and my dear hap to tell . SCENE III A Monaftery . [ Exit . Enter Friar Lawrence with a basket . HE gray - ey'd morn fmiles on the frowning Fri. T THE night , Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks ...
26 psl.
... father . Fri. Benedicite . What early tongue fo fweet faluteth me ? Young fon , it argues a diftemper'd head , So foon to bid good - morrow to thy pillow ; Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye , And where care lodgeth , fleep ...
... father . Fri. Benedicite . What early tongue fo fweet faluteth me ? Young fon , it argues a diftemper'd head , So foon to bid good - morrow to thy pillow ; Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye , And where care lodgeth , fleep ...
27 psl.
... father's ; I fpoke with his man . Mer . Why that fame pale hard - hearted wench , that Rofaline , torments him fo , that he will fure run mad . Ben . Tibalt , the kinfman to old Capulet , hath fent a letter to his father's houfe . Mer ...
... father's ; I fpoke with his man . Mer . Why that fame pale hard - hearted wench , that Rofaline , torments him fo , that he will fure run mad . Ben . Tibalt , the kinfman to old Capulet , hath fent a letter to his father's houfe . Mer ...
29 psl.
... father's ? we'll to dinner thither . Rom , I will follow you . Mer . Farewel , ancient lady . [ Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio . Nurfe . I pray you , Sir , what faucy merchant was this that was fo full of his roguery ? Rom . A gentleman ...
... father's ? we'll to dinner thither . Rom , I will follow you . Mer . Farewel , ancient lady . [ Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio . Nurfe . I pray you , Sir , what faucy merchant was this that was fo full of his roguery ? Rom . A gentleman ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Romeo and Juliet ... With alterations, and an additional scene; by D ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1763 |
Romeo and Juliet ... With alterations, and an additional scene; by D ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1766 |
Romeo and Juliet By Shakespear. With Alterations, and an Additional Scene ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1769 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
art thou banished Capulet's Houſe Coufin dead dear death Doft thou doth elfe Enter Benvolio Enter Capulet Enter Friar Lawrence Enter Juliet Enter Lady Capulet Enter Nurfe Enter Romeo Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewel father fend ferve fhall fight filk flain fleep fome foon forrow foul fpeak fpirit ftand ftill ftir ftraight fuch fweet fword gentleman give gone Greg hafte hate hath hear heart heav'n hence himſelf hither holy kifs kinfman laſt lips look lord Madam Mantua marriage married meaſure Mercutio moſt Moun Mountague muft muſt myſelf night Nurſe o'er Paris peace pleaſure poifon preſently Prince reft Rife Romeo and Juliet ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe ſhould ſpeak ſtay ſweet tears tell thee thefe theſe thoſe thou art thou wilt Thursday Tibalt Verona wake wife
Populiarios ištraukos
14 psl. - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid : Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
13 psl. - She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
21 psl. - Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
14 psl. - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
14 psl. - Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, Then dreams he of another benefice; Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes; And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, And sleeps again.
24 psl. - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
38 psl. - Give me my Romeo: and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
25 psl. - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
21 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...
54 psl. - Alack, alack, is it not like that I So early waking, what with loathsome smells And shrieks like mandrakes...