The Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night. The winter's taleMacmillan, 1863 |
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Página 4
... look unto them all : To - morrow I intend to hunt again . First Hun . I will , my lord . Lord . What's here ? one dead , or drunk ? See , doth he breathe ? Sec . Hun . He breathes , my lord . Were he not warm'd with ale , 30 This were a ...
... look unto them all : To - morrow I intend to hunt again . First Hun . I will , my lord . Lord . What's here ? one dead , or drunk ? See , doth he breathe ? Sec . Hun . He breathes , my lord . Were he not warm'd with ale , 30 This were a ...
Página 9
... look through the overleather . Lord . Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour ! O , that a mighty man of such descent , Of such possessions and so high esteem , Should be infused with so foul a spirit ! Sly . What , would you make ...
... look through the overleather . Lord . Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour ! O , that a mighty man of such descent , Of such possessions and so high esteem , Should be infused with so foul a spirit ! Sly . What , would you make ...
Página 16
... look and practise by myself . Luc . Hark , Tranio ! thou may'st hear Minerva speak . Hor . Signior Baptista , will you be so strange ? 85 Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief . Gre . Why will you mew her up , Signior ...
... look and practise by myself . Luc . Hark , Tranio ! thou may'st hear Minerva speak . Hor . Signior Baptista , will you be so strange ? 85 Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief . Gre . Why will you mew her up , Signior ...
Página 19
... look'd so longly on the maid , Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all . Luc . O yes , I saw sweet beauty in her face , Such as the daughter of Agenor had , 160 That made great Jove to humble him to her hand , When with his knees ...
... look'd so longly on the maid , Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all . Luc . O yes , I saw sweet beauty in her face , Such as the daughter of Agenor had , 160 That made great Jove to humble him to her hand , When with his knees ...
Página 23
... look you , sir , he bid me knock him and rap him soundly , sir : 30 well , was it fit for a servant to use his master so , being per- haps , for aught I see , two - and - thirty , a pip out ? Whom would to God I had well knock'd at ...
... look you , sir , he bid me knock him and rap him soundly , sir : 30 well , was it fit for a servant to use his master so , being per- haps , for aught I see , two - and - thirty , a pip out ? Whom would to God I had well knock'd at ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
“The” Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Visualização integral - 1904 |
“The” Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Visualização integral - 1863 |
The Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Visualização integral - 1891 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
Anon Autolycus Baptista Becket conj Bertram better Bian Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia Camillo Capell conj Cleomenes Collier Collier Count daughter Duke Dyce Enter Exeunt Exit F₁ F₂ father Ff Q Folio fool Gent gentleman give Grant White Gremio Hanmer hast hath hear Heath conj heaven Hermione honour Hortensio Illyria is't Jackson conj Johnson conj Kate Kath Katharina King knave lady Leon lines in Ff lord Lucentio madam Malone conj Malvolio marry master mistress Olivia Padua Parolles Petruchio Pope pray prithee Rann Re-enter Rousillon Rowe Rowe ed SCENE SCENE II servant Shep Sicilia Signior Sir Toby sirrah speak sweet tell thee Theo Theobald conj there's thine thou art Tranio Vincentio Walker conj Warburton wife ΙΟ
Passagens conhecidas
Página 96 - 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, To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; And craves no other tribute at thy hands But love, fair looks and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt.
Página 381 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one!
Página 245 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear ; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter ; What's to come is still unsure : In delay there lies no plenty ; Then come kiss me...
Página 372 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that...
Página 182 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Página 252 - ... away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O ! prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, • On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O ! where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Página 139 - They say, miracles are past; and we -have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.