The Works of Shakespeare in Seven Volumes, 7 tomasA. Bettesworth and C. Hitch, 1733 |
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92 psl.
... Thou art , great lord , my father's fifter's fon ; ( 39 ) A coufin - german to great Priam's seed : The obligation of our blood forbids A gory emulation ' twixt us twain ; Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so , That thou coud'ft fay ...
... Thou art , great lord , my father's fifter's fon ; ( 39 ) A coufin - german to great Priam's seed : The obligation of our blood forbids A gory emulation ' twixt us twain ; Were thy commixion Greek and Trojan so , That thou coud'ft fay ...
95 psl.
... Thou art too brief . I will the fecond time , As I would buy thee , view thee , limb by limb Het . O , like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er : But there's more in me , than thou understand'st . Why doft thou fo oppress me with thine ...
... Thou art too brief . I will the fecond time , As I would buy thee , view thee , limb by limb Het . O , like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er : But there's more in me , than thou understand'st . Why doft thou fo oppress me with thine ...
98 psl.
... thou core of envy ? ( 42 ) Thou crufty botch of Nature , what's the news ? Ther . Why , thou picture of what thou feem'ft , and idol of idiot - worfhippers , here's a letter for thee . Achil . From whence , fragment ? Ther . Why , thou ...
... thou core of envy ? ( 42 ) Thou crufty botch of Nature , what's the news ? Ther . Why , thou picture of what thou feem'ft , and idol of idiot - worfhippers , here's a letter for thee . Achil . From whence , fragment ? Ther . Why , thou ...
99 psl.
... thou damnable box of envy , thou , what meanest thou to curfe thus ? Ther . Do I curfe thee ? Patr . Why , no , you ruinous butt , you whorfon in- diftinguishable cur . . Ther . No ? why art thou then exafperate , thou idle immaterial ...
... thou damnable box of envy , thou , what meanest thou to curfe thus ? Ther . Do I curfe thee ? Patr . Why , no , you ruinous butt , you whorfon in- diftinguishable cur . . Ther . No ? why art thou then exafperate , thou idle immaterial ...
113 psl.
... thou , Greek ! art thou for Hector's match ? Art thou of blood and honour ? Ther . No , no : I am a rafcal ; a fcurvy railing knave ; a very filthy rogue . Hect . I do believe thee live . ― [ Exit . Ther . God o ' mercy , that thou wilt ...
... thou , Greek ! art thou for Hector's match ? Art thou of blood and honour ? Ther . No , no : I am a rafcal ; a fcurvy railing knave ; a very filthy rogue . Hect . I do believe thee live . ― [ Exit . Ther . God o ' mercy , that thou wilt ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax anſwer becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Calchas call'd Capulet Clown death Desdemona Diomede doft doth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair falfe fame father feems felf fhall fhew fhould firft flain fleep fome foul fpeak ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword give Hamlet hath heart heav'n Hector himſelf honeft honour houſe i'th Iago is't Juliet King lady Laer Laertes laft lord Menelaus moft moſt muft murther muſt Neft night Nurfe Nurſe Othello Paffage Pandarus Patroclus Poet Polonius Pope pray Priam purpoſe Quarto Queen Reaſon Rodorigo Romeo Senfe Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe Ther there's theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art Troi Troilus Tybalt uſe whofe wife William Shakespeare word
Populiarios ištraukos
70 psl. - Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
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251 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...
292 psl. - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
327 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.
170 psl. - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die ! like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.
443 psl. - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
247 psl. - The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels ; And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.
154 psl. - What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for thy. name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.
274 psl. - In form and moving how express and admirable ! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, — no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.