The plays of william shakespeare. |
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
affection appears bear believe better blood Caffio Clown comes common dead dear death doth earth editions Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair fall fame father fear feems fenfe fhall fhew fhould follow fome foul fpeak ftand fuch give Hamlet hand hath head hear heart heav'n hold I'll Iago Juliet keep kind King lady leave light lines live look Lord married matter means mind moft Moor moſt muft muſt nature never night Nurfe Othello paffage play POPE pray quarto Queen reafon Romeo SCENE Shakespeare ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thing thou thought tion true uſed WARB WARBURTON whofe wife young
Populiarios ištraukos
202 psl. - 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! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her...
240 psl. - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment ; and what judgment Would step from this to this ? Sense, sure, you have.
255 psl. - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
27 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...
230 psl. - ... stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
165 psl. - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres...
29 psl. - I fear, too early : for my mind misgives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels...
344 psl. - My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty: To you I am bound for life, and education; My life, and education, both do learn me How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty, I am hitherto your daughter: But here's my husband; And so much duty as my mother show'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor, my lord.
41 psl. - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
469 psl. - No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice...