The Plays & Poems of Shakespeare: Merchant of Venice. Midsummer night's dream. Love's labor's lost

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H:O. Bohn, 1857
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PÓgina 12 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
PÓgina 96 - Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that : You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house ; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.
PÓgina 332 - A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it...
PÓgina 208 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night ' That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
PÓgina 21 - I hate him for he is a Christian ; But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
PÓgina 141 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
PÓgina 142 - That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And...
PÓgina 220 - 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.
PÓgina 85 - You have among you many a purchased slave, Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, You use in abject and in slavish parts, Because you bought them.
PÓgina 103 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...

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