The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: King Lear. Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. OthelloPhillips, Sampson, 1851 - 38 pàgines |
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Resultats 6 - 10 de 100.
Pàgina 32
... Give me an egg , nuncle , and I'll give thee two crowns . Lear . What two crowns shall they be ? Fool . Why , after I have cut the egg i ' the middle , and eat up the meat , the two crowns of the egg . When thou clovest thy crown i'the ...
... Give me an egg , nuncle , and I'll give thee two crowns . Lear . What two crowns shall they be ? Fool . Why , after I have cut the egg i ' the middle , and eat up the meat , the two crowns of the egg . When thou clovest thy crown i'the ...
Pàgina 48
... give me leave , I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar , and daub the wall of a jakes with him .-- Spare my gray beard , you wagtail ? Corn . Peace , sirrah ! You beastly knave , know you no reverence ? Kent . Yes , sir ; but ...
... give me leave , I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar , and daub the wall of a jakes with him .-- Spare my gray beard , you wagtail ? Corn . Peace , sirrah ! You beastly knave , know you no reverence ? Kent . Yes , sir ; but ...
Pàgina 52
... Give you good morrow ! Glo . The duke's to blame in this ; ' twill be ill [ Exit . taken . Kent . Good king , that must approve the common saw ! 2 Thou out of Heaven's benediction com'st To the warm sun ! Approach , thou beacon to this ...
... Give you good morrow ! Glo . The duke's to blame in this ; ' twill be ill [ Exit . taken . Kent . Good king , that must approve the common saw ! 2 Thou out of Heaven's benediction com'st To the warm sun ! Approach , thou beacon to this ...
Pàgina 57
... Give me my servant forth . Go , tell the duke and his wife , I'd speak with them , Now , presently ; bid them come forth and hear me , VOL . VII . 8 Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum , SC . IV . ] 57 KING LEAR .
... Give me my servant forth . Go , tell the duke and his wife , I'd speak with them , Now , presently ; bid them come forth and hear me , VOL . VII . 8 Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum , SC . IV . ] 57 KING LEAR .
Pàgina 62
... Give ear , sir , to my sister ; For those that mingle reason with your passion , Must be content to think you old , and so- But she knows what she does . Lear . Is this well spoken , now ? Reg . I dare avouch it , sir . What , fifty ...
... Give ear , sir , to my sister ; For those that mingle reason with your passion , Must be content to think you old , and so- But she knows what she does . Lear . Is this well spoken , now ? Reg . I dare avouch it , sir . What , fifty ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: Pericles. King Lear. Romeo and ... William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1818 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
art thou BENVOLIO blood Brabantio CAPULET Cassio Cordelia Cyprus daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost thou doth duke duke of Cornwall Edmund Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear folio reads fool Fortinbras friar Gent gentleman give Gloster GONERIL grief Hamlet hath hear heart Heaven Horatio Iago is't Juliet Kent king King Lear knave lady Laer Laertes Lear letter look lord madam Mantua marry means Mercutio Michael Cassio murder night noble Nurse o'er old copies Ophelia Othello play POLONIUS poor Pr'ythee pray quarto reads Queen Regan Roderigo Romeo SCENE Shakspeare soul speak speech Steevens sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast to-night Tybalt Verona villain wife wilt word
Passatges populars
Pàgina 306 - O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing...
Pàgina 208 - 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 456 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
Pàgina 331 - 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 so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
Pàgina 72 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Pàgina 13 - Why have my sisters husbands, if they say They love you all ? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my love with him, half my care and duty : Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, To love my father all.
Pàgina 349 - Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do ; Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't.
Pàgina 431 - Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Pàgina 133 - The weight of this sad time we must obey ; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most : we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Pàgina 169 - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...