The Plays of Shakspeare, 17. kötetDoubleday & McClure Company, 1897 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 16 találatból.
23. oldal
... patron , is beaten , and transfers his services as feeder of spite to Achilles . 2 Then Hector of Troy declares in Council of War at the court of his father Priam the unwisdom of the quarrel . He reasons in vain with his brothers Paris ...
... patron , is beaten , and transfers his services as feeder of spite to Achilles . 2 Then Hector of Troy declares in Council of War at the court of his father Priam the unwisdom of the quarrel . He reasons in vain with his brothers Paris ...
72. oldal
... Patr . Good words , Thersites . Achil . What's the quarrel ? Ajax . I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the proclamation , and he rails upon me . Ther . I serve thee not . Ajax . Well , go to , go to . Ther . I serve here ...
... Patr . Good words , Thersites . Achil . What's the quarrel ? Ajax . I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the proclamation , and he rails upon me . Ther . I serve thee not . Ajax . Well , go to , go to . Ther . I serve here ...
73. oldal
... Patr . No more words , Thersites , peace ! Ther . I will hold my peace when Achilles ' brach bids me , shall I ? Achil . There's for you , Patroclus . Ther . I will see you hanged , like clotpoles , ere I come any more to your tents : I ...
... Patr . No more words , Thersites , peace ! Ther . I will hold my peace when Achilles ' brach bids me , shall I ? Achil . There's for you , Patroclus . Ther . I will see you hanged , like clotpoles , ere I come any more to your tents : I ...
85. oldal
... Patr . What , art thou devout ? wast thou in prayer ? Ther . Ay ; the heavens hear me ! Enter ACHILLES . Achil . Who's there ? Patr . Thersites , my lord . Achil . Where , where ? —Art thou come ? Why , my cheese , my digestion , why ...
... Patr . What , art thou devout ? wast thou in prayer ? Ther . Ay ; the heavens hear me ! Enter ACHILLES . Achil . Who's there ? Patr . Thersites , my lord . Achil . Where , where ? —Art thou come ? Why , my cheese , my digestion , why ...
86. oldal
... Patr . Thy lord , Thersites . Then tell me , I pray thee , what's thyself ? Ther . Thy knower , Patroclus . Then tell me , Patroclus , what art thou ? Patr . Thou may'st tell that knowest . Achil . O ! tell , tell . Ther . I'll decline ...
... Patr . Thy lord , Thersites . Then tell me , I pray thee , what's thyself ? Ther . Thy knower , Patroclus . Then tell me , Patroclus , what art thou ? Patr . Thou may'st tell that knowest . Achil . O ! tell , tell . Ther . I'll decline ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Antenor Antium arms Aufidius banished bear Benoît de Sainte-Maure beseech blood brave BRUTUS Caius Marcius Calchas Citizens Cominius consul Coriolanus Corioli Cres deeds DEIPHOBUS Diomed DIOMEDES doth Edile enemy Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell fear fight fool friends give gods Grecian Greek hath hear heart heavens Hect Hector Helen honour kiss lady Lart look lord matter Menelaus Menenius mother Nest Nestor noble Pandarus Paris Patr patricians Patroclus peace pr'ythee praise pray Priam pride prince proud Re-enter Roman Rome SCENE senate Serv Shakespeare SICINIUS soldier speak stand sword tell tent thee Ther there's Thersites thing thou art thou hast TITUS LARTIUS tribunes TROILUS AND CRESSIDA Trojan Troy true trumpet Ulyss valiant Virgilia voices Volsces Volscians VOLUMNIA what's wife word worthy
Népszerű szakaszok
171. oldal - If sanctimony be the gods' delight, If there be rule in unity itself, This is not she. O madness of discourse, That cause sets up with and against itself ! Bi-fold authority ! where reason can revolt Without perdition, and loss assume all reason Without revolt : this is, and is not, Cressid...
55. oldal - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad : but when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixure ! O, when degree is shak'd, Which is the ladder to all high designs, The enterprise is sick.
14. oldal - I'll speak a little. [He /wlds VOLUMNIA by the hand, silent. Cor. O mother, mother ! What have you done ? Behold ! the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother ! mother ! O ! You have won a happy victory to Rome ; But, for your son, — believe it, O ! believe it, — Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him.
104. oldal - Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness, For the capacity of my ruder powers : I fear it much ; and I do fear besides, That I shall lose distinction in my joys ; As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps The enemy flying.
147. oldal - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
28. oldal - To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. They err, who count it glorious to subdue By conquest far and wide, to overrun Large countries, and in fields great battles win, Great cities by assault : what do these worthies, But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave Peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote, Made captive, yet deserving freedom...
56. oldal - How could communities, Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities. Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, The primogenity and due of birth, Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, But by degree, stand in authentic place? Take but degree away, untune that string. And hark ! what discord follows...
55. oldal - And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol, In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd Amidst the other; whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But, when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents?
119. oldal - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
29. oldal - Violent or shameful death their due reward. But, if there be in glory aught of good, It may by means far different be attained, Without ambition, war, or violence ; By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, By patience, temperance.