The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by Pope, Warburton and Dodd are pointed out, together with the author's life; a glossary [&c.]. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 12
30 psl.
... use , Revolts from true birth , stumbling on abuse . Virtue itfelf turns vice , being milapplied ; And vice fometime by action's dignified . Within the infant rind of this fmall flower Poifon hath refidence , and medic'nal power : For ...
... use , Revolts from true birth , stumbling on abuse . Virtue itfelf turns vice , being milapplied ; And vice fometime by action's dignified . Within the infant rind of this fmall flower Poifon hath refidence , and medic'nal power : For ...
35 psl.
... use me at his pleasure ? [ To her man . Pet . I faw no man use you at his pleasure : if I had , my weapon fhould quickly have been out , I warrant + So ho ! Rom . What haft hou found ? Mer . No hare , Sir , unless a hare , Sir , in a ...
... use me at his pleasure ? [ To her man . Pet . I faw no man use you at his pleasure : if I had , my weapon fhould quickly have been out , I warrant + So ho ! Rom . What haft hou found ? Mer . No hare , Sir , unless a hare , Sir , in a ...
52 psl.
... use indeed , Which fhould thy fhape bedeck , thy love , thy wit . Thy noble shape is but a form of wax , Digreffing from the valour of a man : Thy dear love fworn , but hollow perjury , Killing that love which thou haft vow'd to cherish ...
... use indeed , Which fhould thy fhape bedeck , thy love , thy wit . Thy noble shape is but a form of wax , Digreffing from the valour of a man : Thy dear love fworn , but hollow perjury , Killing that love which thou haft vow'd to cherish ...
59 psl.
... me ; Look to't , think on't , I do not use to jest . Thuriday is near ; lay hand on heart , advise : If you be mine , I'll give you to my friend : if If you be not , hang , beg , ftarve Sc . 8 . 59 ROMEO AND JULIET .
... me ; Look to't , think on't , I do not use to jest . Thuriday is near ; lay hand on heart , advise : If you be mine , I'll give you to my friend : if If you be not , hang , beg , ftarve Sc . 8 . 59 ROMEO AND JULIET .
76 psl.
... use In dear employment ; therefore hence , be gone . But if thou , jealous , doft return to pry In what I further fhall intend to do , By heaven , I will tear thee joint by joint , And ftrew this hungry church - yard with thy limbs ...
... use In dear employment ; therefore hence , be gone . But if thou , jealous , doft return to pry In what I further fhall intend to do , By heaven , I will tear thee joint by joint , And ftrew this hungry church - yard with thy limbs ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by ... William Shakespeare Visos knygos peržiūra - 1769 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
againſt art thou Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death defcribed Defdemona doft doth Duke elfe Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame Farewel father fear feem feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep foliloquy fome forrow Fortinbras foul fpeak fpeech fpirit Friar Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword Gentlemen give Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King Lady Laer Laertes lago Lord Madam marry Mercutio moft moſt muft murther muſt myſelf night Nurfe nurſe Ophelia Othello perfon Polonius pray prifoner Prince Queen Richard III Rodorigo Romeo SCENE ſhall ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſed viii villain whofe wife word yourſelf
Populiarios ištraukos
147 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.
133 psl. - No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning.
27 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.
105 psl. - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
177 psl. - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
29 psl. - Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.
157 psl. - ... and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain ? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth ! \Exit.
119 psl. - ... this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
177 psl. - Dost thou come here to whine ? To outface me with leaping in her grave ? Be buried quick with her, and so will I : And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground, Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay, an thou'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou.
125 psl. - I'll leave you till night; you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Giiildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' ye :—Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and 'peasant slave am I ! 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...