The Works of William Shakespeare: The tempest. The two gentlemen of Verona. The merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. The comedy of errorsMacmillan, 1863 - 1075 σελίδες |
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Σελίδα 368
... 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 - Hark you now ...
... 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 - Hark you now ...
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
Anon Attendants bear better bring Cambridge Capell cloth College Collier comes Count Crown 8vo daughter Duke Edition ending Enter Exeunt Exit eyes F₂ fair faith father Fcap fear fellow Ff Q fool fortune give Gremio hand Hanmer hast hath hear heart heaven hold honour hope I'll Johnson Kath King lady leave Leon live Long look lord Lucentio madam Malone marry master mean mistress nature never night Paul play poor Pope pray present Printed queen Re-enter Rowe Rowe ed SCENE Second Serv servant speak stand stay Steevens sweet tell thanks thee Theobald thing thou thought Tranio true Walker conj Warburton wife young
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 377 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one!
Σελίδα 376 - But nature makes that mean : so, over 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 Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Σελίδα 112 - Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull.
Σελίδα 250 - ... be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Σελίδα 180 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Σελίδα 252 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.