The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: With Historical and Analytical Prefaces, Comments, Critical and Explanatory Notes, Glossaries, and a Life of Shakespeare, 4. kötetJ. A. Hill, 1901 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 99 találatból.
23. oldal
... speak , be ready straight And with a low submissive reverence • Say What is it your honour will command ? ' Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose - water and bestrew'd with flowers ; Another bear the ewer , the third a ...
... speak , be ready straight And with a low submissive reverence • Say What is it your honour will command ? ' Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose - water and bestrew'd with flowers ; Another bear the ewer , the third a ...
28. oldal
... speak ; I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things : Upon my life , I am a lord indeed , And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly . Well , bring our lady hither to our sight ; And once again , a pot o ' the smallest ale . 70 Sec . Serv ...
... speak ; I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things : Upon my life , I am a lord indeed , And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly . Well , bring our lady hither to our sight ; And once again , a pot o ' the smallest ale . 70 Sec . Serv ...
29. oldal
... speak of all that time ? First Serv . O , yes , my lord , but very idle words : For though you lay here in this goodly chamber , Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door ; And rail upon the hostess of the house ; And say you would ...
... speak of all that time ? First Serv . O , yes , my lord , but very idle words : For though you lay here in this goodly chamber , Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door ; And rail upon the hostess of the house ; And say you would ...
34. oldal
... speak . Hor . Signior Baptista , will you be so strange ? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief . Gre . Why will you mew her up , Signior Baptista , for this fiend of hell , And make her bear the penance of her tongue ...
... speak . Hor . Signior Baptista , will you be so strange ? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief . Gre . Why will you mew her up , Signior Baptista , for this fiend of hell , And make her bear the penance of her tongue ...
39. oldal
... speak . [ Exeunt . First Serv . My lord , you nod ; you do not mind the play . Sly . Yes , by Saint Anne , do I. A good matter , surely : comes there any more of it ? Page . My lord , ' tis but begun . Sly . ' Tis a very excellent piece ...
... speak . [ Exeunt . First Serv . My lord , you nod ; you do not mind the play . Sly . Yes , by Saint Anne , do I. A good matter , surely : comes there any more of it ? Page . My lord , ' tis but begun . Sly . ' Tis a very excellent piece ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Antigonus Autolycus Baptista Bian Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia Camillo character Cleomenes daughter death Denmark doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear Feran Florizel Folios follow Fortinbras gentleman Ghost give grace Grumio Guil Guildenstern Hamlet hand hast hath hear heart heaven Hermione honour Horatio Hortensio husband Induct Julius Cæsar Kate Kath Katharina King lady Laer Laertes Leon Leontes look lord Lucentio marry master mean mistress mother nature never night Ophelia Osric Padua Paulina Perdita Petruchio Pisa play players Polixenes Polonius pray prince Quartos Queen Re-enter revenge Rosencrantz Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Scene servant Shakespeare Shep Shrew Sicilia Signior soul speak speech swear sweet tell thee There's thing thou thought Tranio villain Vincentio wife Winter's Tale words ΙΟ
Népszerű szakaszok
92. oldal - What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her/ What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have/ He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears.
57. oldal - Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
103. 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.
157. oldal - Caesar dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away : O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! But soft!
61. oldal - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
102. oldal - O, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them: for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
93. oldal - I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
157. oldal - ... abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. — Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chop-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. — Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. HOR. What's that, my lord?...
91. oldal - O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing ! For Hecuba ! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her...
100. oldal - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.