The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John. King Richard II. King Henry IV, part 1Phillips, Sampson, 1850 - 38 páginas |
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Página 4
... speak , sweet , I'd have you do it ever ! " The reader reëchoes the sentiment of the lover , and is sorry to come to the close . With what modest , unconscious dignity are all her words and actions accompanied ! even Polixenes , who ...
... speak , sweet , I'd have you do it ever ! " The reader reëchoes the sentiment of the lover , and is sorry to come to the close . With what modest , unconscious dignity are all her words and actions accompanied ! even Polixenes , who ...
Página 7
... speak it in the freedom of my knowledge ; we cannot with such magnificence - in so rare - I know not what to say.- We will give you sleepy drinks ; that your senses , unintelligent of our insufficience , may , though they cannot praise ...
... speak it in the freedom of my knowledge ; we cannot with such magnificence - in so rare - I know not what to say.- We will give you sleepy drinks ; that your senses , unintelligent of our insufficience , may , though they cannot praise ...
Página 16
... speak this , holds his wife by the arm , That little thinks she has been sluiced in his absence , And his pond fished by his next neighbor , by Sir Smile , his neighbor . Nay , there's comfort in't , Whiles other men have gates ; and ...
... speak this , holds his wife by the arm , That little thinks she has been sluiced in his absence , And his pond fished by his next neighbor , by Sir Smile , his neighbor . Nay , there's comfort in't , Whiles other men have gates ; and ...
Página 21
... begins to warp . Not speak ? - Good - day , Camillo . Cam . Pol . What is the news i'the court ? Cam . Hail , most royal sir ! None rare , my lord . Pol . The king hath on him such a countenance SC . II . ] 21 WINTER'S TALE .
... begins to warp . Not speak ? - Good - day , Camillo . Cam . Pol . What is the news i'the court ? Cam . Hail , most royal sir ! None rare , my lord . Pol . The king hath on him such a countenance SC . II . ] 21 WINTER'S TALE .
Página 25
... speak to me as if I were a baby still . - I love you better . 2 Lady . And why so , my lord ? Not for because Mam . Your brows are blacker ; yet black brows , they say , Become some women best ; so that there be not Too much hair there ...
... speak to me as if I were a baby still . - I love you better . 2 Lady . And why so , my lord ? Not for because Mam . Your brows are blacker ; yet black brows , they say , Become some women best ; so that there be not Too much hair there ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
Antipholus arms art thou Aumerle Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Camillo castle cousin crown death dost doth Dromio duke duke of Hereford earl England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fleance folio friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harry Percy hath hear heart Heaven Holinshed honor Hubert John of Gaunt King John King Richard Lady Leon liege live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty murder never noble Northumberland old copy reads peace Percy play Poins pr'ythee pray prince quarto queen Rich Rosse SCENE Shakspeare shalt shame Shep soul speak stand Steevens swear sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Witch word York
Pasajes populares
Página 206 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys: renown and grace is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
Página 319 - I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Página 198 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Página 65 - But nature makes that mean: so, o'er 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.
Página 445 - I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world: And for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out. My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; My soul the father: and these two beget A generation of still-breeding thoughts, And these same thoughts people this little world, In humours like the people of this world, For no thought is contented.
Página 552 - Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound ; But now, two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough : — this earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.