William Shakspeare's Complete Works, Dramatic and Poetic, 2. kötetS. Andrus and Son, 1852 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 100 találatból.
4. oldal
... fight it out . Bed . Gloster , why doubt'st thou of my forward- ness ? An army have I muster'd in my thoughts , Wherewith already France is over - run . Enter a third Messenger . 3 Mess . My gracious lords , -to add to your laments ...
... fight it out . Bed . Gloster , why doubt'st thou of my forward- ness ? An army have I muster'd in my thoughts , Wherewith already France is over - run . Enter a third Messenger . 3 Mess . My gracious lords , -to add to your laments ...
5. oldal
... fight . Char . Stay , stay thy hands ; thou art an amazon , And fightest with the sword of Deborah . Puc . Christ's mother helps me , else I were too weak . Char . Whoe'er helps thee , ' tis thou that must help me : Impatiently I burn ...
... fight . Char . Stay , stay thy hands ; thou art an amazon , And fightest with the sword of Deborah . Puc . Christ's mother helps me , else I were too weak . Char . Whoe'er helps thee , ' tis thou that must help me : Impatiently I burn ...
6. oldal
... Fight till the last gasp ; I will be your guard . Char . What she says , I'll confirm ; we'll fight it out . Puc . Assign'd am I to be the English scourge . This night the siege assuredly I'll raise : Expect Saint Martin's summer ...
... Fight till the last gasp ; I will be your guard . Char . What she says , I'll confirm ; we'll fight it out . Puc . Assign'd am I to be the English scourge . This night the siege assuredly I'll raise : Expect Saint Martin's summer ...
8. oldal
... fight . Tal . Heavens , can you suffer hell so to prevail ? My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage , And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder , But I will chastise this high - minded strumpet . Puc . Talbot , farewell ...
... fight . Tal . Heavens , can you suffer hell so to prevail ? My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage , And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder , But I will chastise this high - minded strumpet . Puc . Talbot , farewell ...
9. oldal
... fight began , Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds , They did , amongst the troops of armed men , Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field . Bur . Myself ( as far as I could well discern , For smoke , and dusky vapours of the ...
... fight began , Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds , They did , amongst the troops of armed men , Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field . Bur . Myself ( as far as I could well discern , For smoke , and dusky vapours of the ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Achilles Ajax Alarum Antony Apem Apemantus arms art thou bear blood brother Brutus Cæsar Cassio Cleo Coriolanus Cres crown Cymbeline daughter dead dear death dost doth duke duke of York Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster gods grace grief hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour i'the Iago Julius Cæsar Kent king lady Lear live look lord Lucius madam Mark Antony ne'er never night noble o'the Othello Pandarus Patroclus peace Pericles poor pr'ythee pray prince queen Rich Rome Romeo SCENE shame soldiers Somerset soul speak stand Suff Suffolk sweet sword tears tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast tongue Troilus Tybalt unto villain Warwick weep What's wilt words York
Népszerű szakaszok
437. oldal - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
386. oldal - I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; — And take...
242. oldal - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him : For I have neither wit...
408. oldal - 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.
135. oldal - Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's : then, if thou fall'st...
85. oldal - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity; And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
134. oldal - O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,* More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
66. oldal - God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
92. oldal - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
435. oldal - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.