The Dramatic Works of William ShakespeareC. Whittingham, 1826 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 87 találatból.
15. oldal
... eyes : - pour O , cursed be the hand that made these holes ! Cursed the heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the ...
... eyes : - pour O , cursed be the hand that made these holes ! Cursed the heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the ...
16. oldal
... eyes cannot endure the devil.- Avaunt , thou dreadful minister of hell ! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body , His soul thou canst not have ; therefore , be gone . Glo . Sweet saint , for charity , be not so curst . Anne . Foul ...
... eyes cannot endure the devil.- Avaunt , thou dreadful minister of hell ! Thou hadst but power over his mortal body , His soul thou canst not have ; therefore , be gone . Glo . Sweet saint , for charity , be not so curst . Anne . Foul ...
19. oldal
... eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck , You should not blemish it , if I stood by : As all the world is cheered ... eyes . Glo . Thine eyes , sweet lady , have infected mine . Anne . ' Would they were basilisks , to strike SC . II ...
... eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck , You should not blemish it , if I stood by : As all the world is cheered ... eyes . Glo . Thine eyes , sweet lady , have infected mine . Anne . ' Would they were basilisks , to strike SC . II ...
20. oldal
... eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears , Sham'd their aspécts with store of childish drops : These eyes , which never shed remorseful 11 tear , — No , -when my father York and Edward wept , To hear the piteous moan that Rutland ...
... eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears , Sham'd their aspécts with store of childish drops : These eyes , which never shed remorseful 11 tear , — No , -when my father York and Edward wept , To hear the piteous moan that Rutland ...
23. oldal
... eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With God , her conscience , and these bars against me , And I no friends to back my suit withal , But the plain devil , and dissembling looks , And yet to win her , all the world to nothing ...
... eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With God , her conscience , and these bars against me , And I no friends to back my suit withal , But the plain devil , and dissembling looks , And yet to win her , all the world to nothing ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
DRAMATIC WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAK William 1564-1616 Shakespeare,Samuel Weller 1783-1858 Singer Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Cres Cressida curse daughter death Diomed doth Duch duke earl Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen Holinshed honour Kath King Henry King Henry VI King Richard King Richard III king's kiss lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain madam means Menelaus Murd Nestor never night noble Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace play pray Priam prince queen Rape of Lucrece Rich Richmond SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's Sir Thomas sorrow soul speak Stanley Steevens sweet sword tell tent thee Ther Thersites thou thought Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Wolsey word
Népszerű szakaszok
257. oldal - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
153. oldal - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
8. oldal - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion. Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them...
40. 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.
261. oldal - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 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, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr...
260. oldal - O, my lord, Must I then leave you ? must i needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. — The king shall have my service ; but my prayers For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.
233. oldal - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing ; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
38. oldal - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, — So full of dismal terror was the time.
261. oldal - tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to Heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king, He would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
302. oldal - Let me speak, sir, For heaven now bids me ; and the words I utter Let none think flattery, for they'll find them truth. This royal infant (heaven still move about her !), Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, Which time shall bring to ripeness...