The works of Shakespeare, with corrections and illustr. from various commentators, Volume 3 |
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Página 4
... Shall not behold her face at ample view ;, But , like a cloyftrefs , fhe will veiled walk , And water once a day her chamber round With eye - offending brine : all this to feason A brother's dead love , which fhe would keep fresh And ...
... Shall not behold her face at ample view ;, But , like a cloyftrefs , fhe will veiled walk , And water once a day her chamber round With eye - offending brine : all this to feason A brother's dead love , which fhe would keep fresh And ...
Página 9
... under the star of a galliard . Sir And . Ay , ' tis ftrong , and it does indifferent well in a flame - colour'd stocking . Shall we fet about fome revels ? Sir To . What fhall we do elfe ? were Sc . 4 . WHAT YOU WILL .
... under the star of a galliard . Sir And . Ay , ' tis ftrong , and it does indifferent well in a flame - colour'd stocking . Shall we fet about fome revels ? Sir To . What fhall we do elfe ? were Sc . 4 . WHAT YOU WILL .
Página 24
... Shall we rouze the night - owl , in a catch that will draw thee fouls out of one weaver ? fhall we do that ? Sir And . An you love me , let's do't : I am a dog at a catch . Clo . By'r lady , Sir , and fome dogs will catch well . Sir And ...
... Shall we rouze the night - owl , in a catch that will draw thee fouls out of one weaver ? fhall we do that ? Sir And . An you love me , let's do't : I am a dog at a catch . Clo . By'r lady , Sir , and fome dogs will catch well . Sir And ...
Página 26
... Shall I bid him go ? Clo . What an if you do ? [ Singing . Sir To . Shall I bid him go , and spare not ? Clo . O no , no , no , you dare not . Sir To . Out o ' time , Sir , ye lie : art thou any more than a steward ? doft thou think ...
... Shall I bid him go ? Clo . What an if you do ? [ Singing . Sir To . Shall I bid him go , and spare not ? Clo . O no , no , no , you dare not . Sir To . Out o ' time , Sir , ye lie : art thou any more than a steward ? doft thou think ...
Página 30
... shall be thrown . - A thousand thoufand fighs to fave , Lay me , O ! where True lover never find my grave , » . To weep there . Duke . There's for thy pains . Clo . No pains , Sir ; I take pleasure in finging , Sir . - Duke . I'll pay ...
... shall be thrown . - A thousand thoufand fighs to fave , Lay me , O ! where True lover never find my grave , » . To weep there . Duke . There's for thy pains . Clo . No pains , Sir ; I take pleasure in finging , Sir . - Duke . I'll pay ...
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The Works of Shakespeare, with Corrections and Illustr. from Various ... William Shakespeare Pré-visualização indisponível - 2016 |
The Works of Shakespeare, with Corrections and Illustr. from Various ... William Shakespeare Pré-visualização indisponível - 2016 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
againſt Anne Antipholis Baptifta Bian Bianca Bion Biondello Caius Cath Catharina Catharine defire devil doft thou doth Dromio Duke elfe Exeunt Exit Falſtaff father fent fervant feven fhall fhould fifter fince firſt fome fool Ford foul fpeak ftand fuch fure fweet gentleman Gremio hath hear heart Heav'n Herne the hunter himſelf Hoft Hortenfio houfe houſe humour huſband Illyria jeft Johnfon Kate knave knight Lady Lord Lucentio Madam Mafter Brook Malvolio Marry Miftrefs Miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf never Padua Petruchio Pift pleaſe pray prefent Quic reafon ſay SCENE Enter Shal Signior Sir Andrew Sir John Sir Toby Slen ſpeak ſtay tell thee thefe there's theſe thou art thouſand Tranio wife woman worfe yourſelf
Passagens conhecidas
Página 29 - But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We...
Página 239 - Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance : commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land...
Página 3 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.