The Works of William Shakespeare: The Plays Ed. from the Folio of MDCXXIII, with Various Readings from All the Editions and All the Commentators, Notes, Introductory Remarks, a Historical Sketch of the Text, an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Drama, a Memoir of the Poet, and an Essay Upon the Genius, Volum 3Little, Brown, 1863 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 47.
Pàgina 229
... Leon . How many gentlemen have you lost in this action ? Mess . But few of any sort , and none of name . Leon . A victory is twice itself , when the achiever brings home full numbers . I find here , that Don Pedro hath bestowed much ...
... Leon . How many gentlemen have you lost in this action ? Mess . But few of any sort , and none of name . Leon . A victory is twice itself , when the achiever brings home full numbers . I find here , that Don Pedro hath bestowed much ...
Pàgina 230
... Leon . Did he break out into tears ? Mess . In great measure . Leon . A kind overflow of kindness . There are no faces truer than those that are so wash'd : how much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping ? Beatrice . I pray ...
... Leon . Did he break out into tears ? Mess . In great measure . Leon . A kind overflow of kindness . There are no faces truer than those that are so wash'd : how much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping ? Beatrice . I pray ...
Pàgina 231
... Leon . You must not , sir , mistake my niece . There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her : they never meet , but there's a skirmish of wit between them . Beat . Alas ! he gets nothing by that . In our last conflict ...
... Leon . You must not , sir , mistake my niece . There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her : they never meet , but there's a skirmish of wit between them . Beat . Alas ! he gets nothing by that . In our last conflict ...
Pàgina 232
... Leon . You'll ne'er run mad , niece . Beat . No , not till a hot January . Mess . Don Pedro is approach'd . Enter Don PEDRO , JOHN the Bastard , CLAUDIO , BEN- EDICK , BALTHAZAR , and others . Don Pedro . Good Signior Leonato , you are ...
... Leon . You'll ne'er run mad , niece . Beat . No , not till a hot January . Mess . Don Pedro is approach'd . Enter Don PEDRO , JOHN the Bastard , CLAUDIO , BEN- EDICK , BALTHAZAR , and others . Don Pedro . Good Signior Leonato , you are ...
Pàgina 233
... is no hypocrite , but prays from his heart . Leon . If you swear , my lord , you shall not be forsworn . Let me bid you welcome , my lord : be- - 02 ing reconciled to the Prince , your brother , I SC . I. 233 ABOUT NOTHING .
... is no hypocrite , but prays from his heart . Leon . If you swear , my lord , you shall not be forsworn . Let me bid you welcome , my lord : be- - 02 ing reconciled to the Prince , your brother , I SC . I. 233 ABOUT NOTHING .
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Antipholus Armado Bawd Beat Beatrice Benedick Birone Bora Borachio Boyet brother Claud Claudio Collier's folio Comedy Comedy of Errors Cost Costard death Dogb Don PEDRO dost thou doth Dromio Duke Dyce Enter Ephesus error Escal Exeunt Exit fair Folio and quarto fool Friar Gentlemen of Verona give Grace hast hath hear heart Heaven Hero hither hitherto honour husband Isab John King lady Leon Leonato look Lord Angelo LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST Lucio maid Marry Master Master Constable mean Measure for Measure merry misprint mistress Moth never original pardon placket play Pompey pray Prince Prov Provost rhyme Rosaline SCENE second folio sense Shakespeare's day shame Signior speak speech Steevens sweet tell thee Theobald there's thou art to-morrow tongue villain wench wife word
Passatges populars
Pàgina 443 - When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Pàgina 56 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and inccrtain thoughts Imagine howling ! — 'tis too horrible.
Pàgina 53 - Of palsied eld ; and when thou art old and rich, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths ; yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even.
Pàgina 14 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd...
Pàgina 387 - Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book ; he hath not eat paper, as it were ; he hath not drunk ink : his intellect is not replenished ; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts...
Pàgina 352 - Save base authority from others' books. • These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Pàgina 54 - And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Pàgina 41 - Than the soft myrtle : but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, — Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence, — like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep ; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Pàgina 367 - Birone they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Pàgina 443 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...