Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. Othello. Glossarial indexJ. Nichols, 1811 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 34 találatból.
39. oldal
... murder thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet , And I am proof against their enmity . Jul . I would not for the world , they saw thee here . Rom . I have night's cloak ...
... murder thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet , And I am proof against their enmity . Jul . I would not for the world , they saw thee here . Rom . I have night's cloak ...
66. oldal
... murders , pardoning those that kill . [ Exeunt . SCENE II . A Room in Capulet's House . Enter JULIET . Jul . Gallop apace , you fiery - footed steeds , Towards Phoebus ' mansion ; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west ...
... murders , pardoning those that kill . [ Exeunt . SCENE II . A Room in Capulet's House . Enter JULIET . Jul . Gallop apace , you fiery - footed steeds , Towards Phoebus ' mansion ; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west ...
70. oldal
... murder'd me : I would forget it fain ; But , O ! it presses to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to sinners ' minds : Tybalt is dead , and Romeo - banished ; That - banished , that one word - banished , Hath slain ten thousand ...
... murder'd me : I would forget it fain ; But , O ! it presses to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to sinners ' minds : Tybalt is dead , and Romeo - banished ; That - banished , that one word - banished , Hath slain ten thousand ...
72. oldal
... murders me . Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankfulness ! Thy fault our law calls death ; but the kind prince , Taking thy part , hath rush'd aside the law , And turn'd that black word death to banishment : This is dear mercy , ' and ...
... murders me . Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankfulness ! Thy fault our law calls death ; but the kind prince , Taking thy part , hath rush'd aside the law , And turn'd that black word death to banishment : This is dear mercy , ' and ...
73. oldal
... lover ; that dalliance , in which he who courts or wooes a lady is sometimes indulged . 3 Let me dispute with thee of thy estate . ] i . e . talk over thy affairs . An hour but married , Tybalt murdered , Doting like ROMEO AND JULIET . 73.
... lover ; that dalliance , in which he who courts or wooes a lady is sometimes indulged . 3 Let me dispute with thee of thy estate . ] i . e . talk over thy affairs . An hour but married , Tybalt murdered , Doting like ROMEO AND JULIET . 73.
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ancient art thou BENVOLIO blood Brabantio CAPULET Cassio Cyprus daughter dead dear death Denmark Desdemona devil dost thou doth Emil EMILIA Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear Fortinbras friar Friar LAURENCE gentleman give grief Guil GUILDENSTERN Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Horatio i'the Iago is't JOHNSON Juliet kill'd King lady Laer Laertes live look lord madam Mantua married means Mercutio Michael Cassio Montague Moor murder never night noble Nurse o'er Ophelia Othello play POLONIUS pray Prince Queen Roderigo Romeo ROSENCRANTZ ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's signifies soul speak STEEVENS sweet sword tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought to-night Tybalt Venice villain weep wife wilt word
Népszerű szakaszok
213. oldal - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
355. oldal - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
134. oldal - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : % And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
148. oldal - Are most select and generous, chief in that. 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.
221. oldal - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
190. 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.
193. oldal - To die, to sleep : To sleep : perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause : there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
282. oldal - Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me ! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
41. oldal - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke : but farewell compliment ! Dost thou love me ? I know thou wilt say " Ay ;" And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false ; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
138. oldal - Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods...