The Works of William Shakespeare: Comprising His Dramatic and Poetical Works, Complete, 2 tomasPhillips, Sampson, 1853 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 100
5 psl.
... thou as dauphin in my place : Question her proudly , let thy looks be stern ... art . Heaven , and our Lady gracious , hath it pleas'd To shine on my ... thou canst possible , And I will answer unpremeditated : My courage try by combat ...
... thou as dauphin in my place : Question her proudly , let thy looks be stern ... art . Heaven , and our Lady gracious , hath it pleas'd To shine on my ... thou canst possible , And I will answer unpremeditated : My courage try by combat ...
6 psl.
... art inspired then . Helen , the mother of great Constantine , Nor yet Saint ... thou canst to save our honours ; Drive them from Orleans , and be immortaliz ... thou , nor none of thine , shall be let in . Glo . Faint - hearted Woodville ...
... art inspired then . Helen , the mother of great Constantine , Nor yet Saint ... thou canst to save our honours ; Drive them from Orleans , and be immortaliz ... thou , nor none of thine , shall be let in . Glo . Faint - hearted Woodville ...
10 psl.
... thou be he , then art thou prisoner . Tal . Prisoner ! to whom ? Count . To me , blood - thirsty lord ; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house . Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me , For in my gallery thy picture hangs ...
... thou be he , then art thou prisoner . Tal . Prisoner ! to whom ? Count . To me , blood - thirsty lord ; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house . Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me , For in my gallery thy picture hangs ...
13 psl.
... thou with deep premeditated lines , With written pamphlets studiously devis ... art a most pernicious usurer ; Froward by nature , enemy to peace ... Thou bastard of my grandfather ! Win . Ay , lordly sir ; For what are you , I pray , But ...
... thou with deep premeditated lines , With written pamphlets studiously devis ... art a most pernicious usurer ; Froward by nature , enemy to peace ... Thou bastard of my grandfather ! Win . Ay , lordly sir ; For what are you , I pray , But ...
20 psl.
... thy father to his drooping chair . But , -O malignant and ill - boding stars ! Now thou art come unto a feast of death , ' A terrible and unavoided2 danger : Therefore , dear boy , mount on my swiftest horse ; And I'll direct thee how thou ...
... thy father to his drooping chair . But , -O malignant and ill - boding stars ! Now thou art come unto a feast of death , ' A terrible and unavoided2 danger : Therefore , dear boy , mount on my swiftest horse ; And I'll direct thee how thou ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Works of William Shakespeare– Comprising His Dramatic and ..., 2 tomas William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1854 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Achilles Ajax Alarum Antony Apem Apemantus arms art thou bear blood brother Brutus Cæsar Cassio Cleo Coriolanus Cres crown Cymbeline daughter dead dear death Desdemona Diomed dost doth duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster gods grace grief hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour i'the Iago Julius Cæsar Kent king lady lago Lear live look lord Lucius madam Mark Antony ne'er never night noble o'the Othello Pandarus Patroclus peace Pericles poor pr'ythee pray prince queen Rich Rome Romeo SCENE shame soldiers Somerset soul speak stand Suff Suffolk sweet sword tears tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast tongue Troilus Tybalt unto villain Warwick weep What's wilt words York
Populiarios ištraukos
65 psl. - God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
134 psl. - ... wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues : be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's : then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell ! Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king ; And...
425 psl. - 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! For Hecuba ! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
417 psl. - That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth— wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin— By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners, that these men, Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, Being nature's livery, or fortune's star...
238 psl. - Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
234 psl. - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come.
228 psl. - Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake, — 'tis true, this God did shake. His coward lips did from their colour fly ; And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lose his lustre ; I did hear him groan ; Aye, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas ! (it cried), Give me some drink, Titinius, As a sick girl.
399 psl. - 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.
134 psl. - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
428 psl. - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.