The works of William Shakespeare, ed. by H. Staunton, 4. kötet |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 76 találatból.
16. oldal
... soul of bounty ! TIM . And now I remember , my lord , you gave good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on : ' t is yours , because you liked it . 2 LORD . O , I beseech you , pardon me , my lord , in that . TIM . You may take ...
... soul of bounty ! TIM . And now I remember , my lord , you gave good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on : ' t is yours , because you liked it . 2 LORD . O , I beseech you , pardon me , my lord , in that . TIM . You may take ...
26. oldal
... soul , ' t is true , sir . LUC . What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against such a good time , when I might have shown myself honourable ! how unluckily it happened , that I should purchase the day before for a little part ...
... soul , ' t is true , sir . LUC . What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against such a good time , when I might have shown myself honourable ! how unluckily it happened , that I should purchase the day before for a little part ...
27. oldal
... soul ; and just of the same piece Is every flatterer's spirit . Who can call him his friend , That dips in the same dish ? for , in my knowing , Timon has been this lord's father , And kept his credit with his purse ; Supported his ...
... soul ; and just of the same piece Is every flatterer's spirit . Who can call him his friend , That dips in the same dish ? for , in my knowing , Timon has been this lord's father , And kept his credit with his purse ; Supported his ...
30. oldal
... soul , my lord leans wondrously to discontent . His comfortable temper has forsook him ; he ' s much out of health , and keeps his chamber . LUC . SERV . Many do keep their chambers are not sick : And , if it be so far beyond his health ...
... soul , my lord leans wondrously to discontent . His comfortable temper has forsook him ; he ' s much out of health , and keeps his chamber . LUC . SERV . Many do keep their chambers are not sick : And , if it be so far beyond his health ...
31. oldal
... soul ; And mine , my lord . ] The old copies assign this speech to 1 Varro . Capell correctly gave it to the servant of Hortensius , because Varro's two servants proffer their bills immediately afterwards . b PHI . All our bills . TIM ...
... soul ; And mine , my lord . ] The old copies assign this speech to 1 Varro . Capell correctly gave it to the servant of Hortensius , because Varro's two servants proffer their bills immediately afterwards . b PHI . All our bills . TIM ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ALCIB Alcibiades Angelo ANNE APEM Apemantus ARIEL bear beseech blood brother BUCK Buckingham Caliban cardinal Catesby CHAM Clarence Claudio Cloten Collier's annotator Cymbeline dead death Dorset dost doth DUCH DUKE ELIZ Enter ESCAL Exeunt Exit eyes father fear FLAV folio folio omits folio reads fool friar friends GENT gentleman give grace GUIDERIUS hath hear heart heaven hither honour IACH Imogen ISAB KATH king king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings LUCIO madam master Measure for Measure MIRA mistress MURD never noble NORF Old text Pisanio poet Pompey poor Posthumus pr'ythee pray prince Prospero PROV Provost quartos queen Re-enter RICH Richard SCENE Shakespeare SIR THOMAS LOVELL soul speak Sycorax tell thank thee There's thine thing thou art Timon unto word
Népszerű szakaszok
485. oldal - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me ; that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
488. oldal - O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper ; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
498. oldal - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
205. oldal - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
217. oldal - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be, worse than worst, Of those that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine, howling ! — 'tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life,...
308. oldal - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting : I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
314. oldal - I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
312. oldal - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes
313. 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.
72. oldal - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.