The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes : Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected, with Notes, Explanatory, and Critical, Volum 8C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. and R. Tonson, B. Dod, G. Woodfall, J. Rivington, R. Baldwin, T. Longman, S. Crowder and Company, W. Johnson, C. Corbet, T. Lownds, and T. Caslon, 1762 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 43.
Pàgina 7
Ay , while you live , draw your neck out of the collar . Sam . I ftrike quickly , being mov'd . Greg . But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike . Sam . A dog of the houfe of Montague moves me . : Greg . To move , is to ftir ; and to be ...
Ay , while you live , draw your neck out of the collar . Sam . I ftrike quickly , being mov'd . Greg . But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike . Sam . A dog of the houfe of Montague moves me . : Greg . To move , is to ftir ; and to be ...
Pàgina 14
Then he hath fworn , that fhe will still live chafte ? Rom . She hath , and in that sparing makes huge waste . For beauty , ftarv'd with her feverity , Cuts beauty off from ali pofterity . She is too fair , too wife ; wifely too fair ...
Then he hath fworn , that fhe will still live chafte ? Rom . She hath , and in that sparing makes huge waste . For beauty , ftarv'd with her feverity , Cuts beauty off from ali pofterity . She is too fair , too wife ; wifely too fair ...
Pàgina 19
-I warrant , an ' I should live a thousand years , I should not forget it : Wilt thou not , Julé , quoth he ? and , pretty fool , it ftinted , and faid , ay . La . Cap . Enough of this , I pray thee , hold thy peace . Nurfe .
-I warrant , an ' I should live a thousand years , I should not forget it : Wilt thou not , Julé , quoth he ? and , pretty fool , it ftinted , and faid , ay . La . Cap . Enough of this , I pray thee , hold thy peace . Nurfe .
Pàgina 37
Nor nought fo vile , that on the earth doth live , But to the earth fome fpecial good doth give : Nor aught fo good , but , ftrain'd from that fair use , Revolts from true birth , ftumbling on abuse . Virtue itself turns vice , being ...
Nor nought fo vile , that on the earth doth live , But to the earth fome fpecial good doth give : Nor aught fo good , but , ftrain'd from that fair use , Revolts from true birth , ftumbling on abuse . Virtue itself turns vice , being ...
Pàgina 54
I beg for juftice , which thou , Prince , muft give ; Romeo flew Tybalt , Romeo must not live . Prin . Romeo flew him , he flew Mercutio ; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe ? La . Mont . Not Romeo , Prince , he was Mercutio's ...
I beg for juftice , which thou , Prince , muft give ; Romeo flew Tybalt , Romeo must not live . Prin . Romeo flew him , he flew Mercutio ; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe ? La . Mont . Not Romeo , Prince , he was Mercutio's ...
Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies ... William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1740 |
The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes ; Collated with the ..., Volum 8 William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1740 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
bear blood bring Caffio Capulet changes Clown comes daughter dead dear death doft doth Duke Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall fame Farewel father fear feem fhall fhew fhould follow fome foul fpeak ftand fuch fweet give gone Hamlet hand hath head hear heart heav'n hold I'll Iago Juliet keep King lady Laer Laertes leave letter light live look Lord marry matter means moft Moor moſt mother muft murder nature never night noble Nurfe Othello play poor pray Prince Printed Quarto Queen Romeo SCENE ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thou thou art thought true Tybalt villain watch whofe wife young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 32 - What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O! be some other name: What's in a name?
Pàgina 190 - 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.
Pàgina 251 - That I did love the Moor to live with him, My downright violence and storm of fortunes May trumpet to the world ; my heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my lord : I saw Othello's visage in his mind ; And to his honours, and his valiant parts, Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
Pàgina 210 - 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
Pàgina 114 - ... uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month, Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married.
Pàgina 175 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law. But 'tis not...
Pàgina 160 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Pàgina 120 - Are most select and generous, chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Pàgina 66 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Pàgina 36 - 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.
Informació bibliogràfica
| Títol | The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes : Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected, with Notes, Explanatory, and Critical, Volum 8 The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes : Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected, with Notes, Explanatory, and Critical, William Shakespeare |
| Autor | William Shakespeare |
| Editor | C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. and R. Tonson, B. Dod, G. Woodfall, J. Rivington, R. Baldwin, T. Longman, S. Crowder and Company, W. Johnson, C. Corbet, T. Lownds, and T. Caslon, 1762 |
| Original de | Biblioteca Pública de Nova York |
| Digitalitzat el | 29 Des. 2006 |
| Exporta citacions | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |