The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, 8 tomasH. Woodfall, 1767 |
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11 psl.
... to draw The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed ; Away from light fteals home my heavy fon ,. And private in his chamber pens himself ; Shuts up his windows , locks fair day - light out , And makes himself an artificial night ... ( 2 ) -an ...
... to draw The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed ; Away from light fteals home my heavy fon ,. And private in his chamber pens himself ; Shuts up his windows , locks fair day - light out , And makes himself an artificial night ... ( 2 ) -an ...
15 psl.
... the .. She is the hopeful lady of my earth : But woo her , gentle Paris , get her 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 ...
... the .. She is the hopeful lady of my earth : But woo her , gentle Paris , get her 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 ...
19 psl.
... of an age . Well , Sufan is with God , fhe was too good for me . But as I faid , on Lammas - eve at night shall the be fourteen , that fhall fhe , marry , I remember it well . ' Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years , and she was ...
... of an age . Well , Sufan is with God , fhe was too good for me . But as I faid , on Lammas - eve at night shall the be fourteen , that fhall fhe , marry , I remember it well . ' Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years , and she was ...
22 psl.
... To foar with his light feathers : and so bound , I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : Under love's heavy burden ... night . Mer . And fo did I. Rom . Well ; what was yours ? Mer . That dreamers often lie . Rom . - In bed asleep ...
... To foar with his light feathers : and so bound , I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : Under love's heavy burden ... night . Mer . And fo did I. Rom . Well ; what was yours ? Mer . That dreamers often lie . Rom . - In bed asleep ...
23 psl.
... the lazy finger of a maid . Her chariot is an empty hazel - nut , Made by the joiner fquirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies ' coach - makers : And in this ftate fhe gallops , night by night , Through lovers ' brains , and ...
... the lazy finger of a maid . Her chariot is an empty hazel - nut , Made by the joiner fquirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies ' coach - makers : And in this ftate fhe gallops , night by night , Through lovers ' brains , and ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
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.