Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King JohnCharles Whittingham, 1826 |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 6–10 iš 65
42 psl.
... thou art worthy to be hang'd , That wilt not stay her tongue . Ant . That cannot do that feat , you'll leave yourself Hardly one subject . Leon . Once more , take her hence . Paul . A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more . 11 ...
... thou art worthy to be hang'd , That wilt not stay her tongue . Ant . That cannot do that feat , you'll leave yourself Hardly one subject . Leon . Once more , take her hence . Paul . A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more . 11 ...
45 psl.
... thou art liegeman to us , that thou carry This female bastard hence ; and that thou bear it To some remote and desert place , quite out Of our dominions ; and that there thou leave it , Without more mercy , to its own protection , And ...
... thou art liegeman to us , that thou carry This female bastard hence ; and that thou bear it To some remote and desert place , quite out Of our dominions ; and that there thou leave it , Without more mercy , to its own protection , And ...
48 psl.
... thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason , in committing adultery with Polixenes , king of Bohemia ; and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king , thy royal husband ; the pretence1 whereof ...
... thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason , in committing adultery with Polixenes , king of Bohemia ; and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king , thy royal husband ; the pretence1 whereof ...
57 psl.
... Thou art perfect 1 then , our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia ? Mar. Ay , my lord ; and fear We have landed in ill time : the skies look grimly , And threaten present blusters . In my conscience , The heavens with that we ...
... Thou art perfect 1 then , our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia ? Mar. Ay , my lord ; and fear We have landed in ill time : the skies look grimly , And threaten present blusters . In my conscience , The heavens with that we ...
59 psl.
... thy mother's fault , art thus expos'd To loss , and what may follow ! -Weep I cannot , But my heart bleeds ; and most accurs'd am I , To be by oath enjoin'd to this . - Farewell ! The day frowns more and more ; thou art like to have A ...
... thy mother's fault , art thus expos'd To loss , and what may follow ! -Weep I cannot , But my heart bleeds ; and most accurs'd am I , To be by oath enjoin'd to this . - Farewell ! The day frowns more and more ; thou art like to have A ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John William Shakespeare,Thomas Bowdler Visos knygos peržiūra - 1820 |
Winter's tale ; Comedy of errors ; Macbeth ; King John William Shakespeare,Henry Norman Hudson Visos knygos peržiūra - 1864 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Antigonus Antipholus Arthur Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia breath Camillo Comedy of Errors Const death deed dost doth Dromio Duke Duncan England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France give grief hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione Holinshed honour Hubert husband Julius Cæsar King Henry King Henry IV King John Lady LADY MACBETH Leon Leontes look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff Malone master means mistress murder night o'er old copy reads old play PANDULPH passage Paul Paulina peace Polixenes pray prince queen Rosse SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shep Sicilia sleep soul speak Steevens swear sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Winter's Tale Witch word
Populiarios ištraukos
273 psl. - Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal ; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear : the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools : this is more strange Than such a murder is.
242 psl. - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth...
66 psl. - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
75 psl. - Say there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, o'er that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art ~\\ hich does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
230 psl. - The effect, and it. Come to .my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH.
328 psl. - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
234 psl. - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come.
236 psl. - d yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and...
244 psl. - Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time Which now suits with it.
59 psl. - I would, there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest : for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.