The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John |
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Página 120
Who would be thence , that has the benefit of access ? every wink of an eye ,
some new grace will be born : our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge .
Let's along . [ Exeunt Gentlemen . Aut . Now , had I not the dash of my former life
in ...
Who would be thence , that has the benefit of access ? every wink of an eye ,
some new grace will be born : our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge .
Let's along . [ Exeunt Gentlemen . Aut . Now , had I not the dash of my former life
in ...
Página 131
For , since the mortal and intestine jars ' Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us , It
hath in solemn synods been decreed , Both by the Syracusans and ourselves ,
To admit no traffick to our adverse towns : Nay , more , If any , born at Ephesus ...
For , since the mortal and intestine jars ' Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us , It
hath in solemn synods been decreed , Both by the Syracusans and ourselves ,
To admit no traffick to our adverse towns : Nay , more , If any , born at Ephesus ...
Página 132
are Again , If any Syracusan born , Come to the bay of Ephesus , he dies , His
goods confiscate to the duke's dispose ; Unless a thousand marks be levied , To
quit the penalty , and to ransom him . Thy substance , valued at the highest rate ...
are Again , If any Syracusan born , Come to the bay of Ephesus , he dies , His
goods confiscate to the duke's dispose ; Unless a thousand marks be levied , To
quit the penalty , and to ransom him . Thy substance , valued at the highest rate ...
Página 320
Thou wast born of woman.But swords I smile at , weapons laugh to scorn ,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born . [ Exit . Alarums . Enter MACDUFF .
Macd . That way the noise is : —Tyrant , show thy face : If thou be'st slain , and
with no ...
Thou wast born of woman.But swords I smile at , weapons laugh to scorn ,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born . [ Exit . Alarums . Enter MACDUFF .
Macd . That way the noise is : —Tyrant , show thy face : If thou be'st slain , and
with no ...
Página 322
man : With thy keen sword impress , as make me bleed : Let fall thy blade on
vulnerable crests ; I bear a charmed life® , which must not yield To one of woman
born . Macd . Despair thy charm ; And let the angel , whom thou still hast serv'd ...
man : With thy keen sword impress , as make me bleed : Let fall thy blade on
vulnerable crests ; I bear a charmed life® , which must not yield To one of woman
born . Macd . Despair thy charm ; And let the angel , whom thou still hast serv'd ...
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Términos y frases comunes
appears arms Attendants Bast bear better blood born breath bring brother Camillo cause child comes dead death doth Dromio Duke England Enter Exeunt eyes face fair father fear France give gone hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Henry hold Holinshed honour hour husband I'll John keep king Lady land leave Leon live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd master means mind mother murder nature never night old copy once passage Paul peace play poor pray present prince queen reads Rosse SCENE seems sense Shakspeare sleep soul speak spirit stand stay sweet tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought tongue true wife Witch
Pasajes populares
Página 328 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Página 242 - 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 marshal'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still.
Página 436 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Página 398 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Página 75 - Say there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, 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 ~\\ hich does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
Página 230 - The effect, and it. Come to .my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH.
Página 77 - What you do Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Página 273 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end: but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: This is more strange Than such a murder is.
Página 253 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da 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 236 - d yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and...
Información bibliográfica
| Título | The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John Volumen4 de The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Samuel Weller Singer |
| Autor | William Shakespeare |
| Ilustrado por | Thomas Stothard |
| Editor | C. Whittingham, 1826 |
| Procedencia del original | Biblioteca Pública de Nueva York |
| Digitalizado | 29 Dic. 2006 |
| Exportar cita | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |