The Dramatic Works of William ShakespeareC. Whittingham, 1826 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 52 találatból.
56. oldal
... tear her limb - meal ! I will go there , and do't ; i'the court ; before Her father : -I'll do something— Phi . [ Exit . Quite besides The government of patience ! -You have won : Let's follow him , and pervert 13 the present wrath He ...
... tear her limb - meal ! I will go there , and do't ; i'the court ; before Her father : -I'll do something— Phi . [ Exit . Quite besides The government of patience ! -You have won : Let's follow him , and pervert 13 the present wrath He ...
73. oldal
... tear : took pity From most true wretchedness : So , thou , Posthumus , Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men 6 ; Goodly , and gallant , shall be false and perjur'd , From thy great fail . - Come , fellow , be thou honest : 5 That is to ...
... tear : took pity From most true wretchedness : So , thou , Posthumus , Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men 6 ; Goodly , and gallant , shall be false and perjur'd , From thy great fail . - Come , fellow , be thou honest : 5 That is to ...
125. oldal
... tear to pieces that great bond That keeps me pale . ' There is an equivoque between the legal instrument and bonds of steel ; a little out of its place in a passage of pathetic excla- mation . 4 This Scene is supposed not to be ...
... tear to pieces that great bond That keeps me pale . ' There is an equivoque between the legal instrument and bonds of steel ; a little out of its place in a passage of pathetic excla- mation . 4 This Scene is supposed not to be ...
142. oldal
... tears that fall , Cym . Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen , Thy mother's dead . Imo . I am sorry for't , my lord . Cym . O , she was naught ; and ' long of her it was , That we meet here so strangely : But her son Is gone , we know not ...
... tears that fall , Cym . Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen , Thy mother's dead . Imo . I am sorry for't , my lord . Cym . O , she was naught ; and ' long of her it was , That we meet here so strangely : But her son Is gone , we know not ...
146. oldal
... tears give testimony to the sincerity of thy relation ; and I have the less reason to be incredulous , because the actions which you have done within my knowledge are more incredible than the story which you relate . ' The king reasons ...
... tears give testimony to the sincerity of thy relation ; and I have the less reason to be incredulous , because the actions which you have done within my knowledge are more incredible than the story which you relate . ' The king reasons ...
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
Aaron Andronicus Antony and Cleopatra Bassianus Bawd better blood Boult brother Cloten Cordelia Corn Cymbeline daughter dead death DIONYZA dost doth EDGAR Edmund Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear folio Fool Gent gentleman give Gloster gods Goneril Goths GUIDERIUS hand hath hear heart heaven honour Iach Iachimo Imogen Kent King Lear lady Lavinia Lear lord Lucius LYSIMACHUS madam Malone Marcus Marina means mistress never night noble old copy reads passage Pericles Pisanio play poor Posthumus pray prince quartos quartos read queen Regan Roman Rome Romeo and Juliet SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's shalt sorrow speak Steevens sweet Tamora tears tell Tharsus thee there's thine thou art thou hast Titus Titus Andronicus Troilus and Cressida villain Winter's Tale word
Népszerű szakaszok
543. oldal - Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd ! No, no, no life: Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! — Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir.
451. oldal - O, reason not the need ! Our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous. Allow" not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.
519. oldal - How does my royal lord ? How fares your majesty ? Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave : Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
543. oldal - The weight of this sad time we must obey ; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most : we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
461. oldal - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
526. 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...
151. oldal - To remark the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the names and manners of different times, and the impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, and too gross for aggravation.
545. oldal - A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life : but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or that, if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue.
399. oldal - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our own behaviour, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to...
545. oldal - Shakespeare has suffered the virtue of Cordelia to perish in a just cause, contrary to the natural ideas of justice, to the hope of the reader, and, what is yet more strange, to the faith of chronicles.