The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, 8 tomasH. Woodfall, 1767 |
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13 psl.
... heart , at what ? Ben . At thy good heart's oppreffion . Ram . Why , fuch is love's tranfgreffion . Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast ; Which thou wilt propagate , to have them preft With more of thine ; this love , that thou ...
... heart , at what ? Ben . At thy good heart's oppreffion . Ram . Why , fuch is love's tranfgreffion . Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast ; Which thou wilt propagate , to have them preft With more of thine ; this love , that thou ...
15 psl.
... heart , My will to her confent is but a part ; If the agree , within her fcope of choice Lies my confent , and fair according voice : This night , I hold an old - accuftom'd feaft , Whereto I have invited many a guest , Such as I love ...
... heart , My will to her confent is but a part ; If the agree , within her fcope of choice Lies my confent , and fair according voice : This night , I hold an old - accuftom'd feaft , Whereto I have invited many a guest , Such as I love ...
22 psl.
... heart , Tickle the fenfeless rushes with their heels ; For I am proverb'd with a grandfire - phrase ; I'll be a candle - holder , and look on . The game was ne'er so fair , and I am done . Mer . Tut ! dun's the moufe , the conftable's ...
... heart , Tickle the fenfeless rushes with their heels ; For I am proverb'd with a grandfire - phrase ; I'll be a candle - holder , and look on . The game was ne'er so fair , and I am done . Mer . Tut ! dun's the moufe , the conftable's ...
26 psl.
... with crows , As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows . The measure done , I'll watch her place of ftand , And , touching hers , make happy my rude hand . Lid my heart love till now ? forfwear it , Did 26 ROMEO and JULTET . ! ...
... with crows , As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows . The measure done , I'll watch her place of ftand , And , touching hers , make happy my rude hand . Lid my heart love till now ? forfwear it , Did 26 ROMEO and JULTET . ! ...
27 psl.
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). Lid my heart love till now ? forfwear it , fight ; I never faw true beauty ... hearts : - Be quiet , or ( more light , Marry , ' tis time . -You are a princox , go : - more light , for fhame ) I ...
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). Lid my heart love till now ? forfwear it , fight ; I never faw true beauty ... hearts : - Be quiet , or ( more light , Marry , ' tis time . -You are a princox , go : - more light , for fhame ) I ...
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againſt becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio call'd Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death Defdemona Desdemona doft doth Duke Emil Enter ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame father fatire feems feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome Fortinbras foul fpeak fpirit Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword gentleman give Hamlet hath heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio houſe huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago loft Lord married Mercutio moft Moor moſt muft muſt myſelf night Nurfe Ophelia Othello paffage Perfon play pleaſe Poet Polonius pray purpoſe Quarto Queen reafon Rodorigo Romeo ſay Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſe villain whofe wife William Shakespeare word yourſelf
Populiarios ištraukos
231 psl. - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
17 psl. - Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
123 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...
177 psl. - Tis now the very witching time of night When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
185 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?
221 psl. - I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
160 psl. - As made the things more rich; their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
261 psl. - Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself.
31 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.
26 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.