The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Life of Shakespeare. Seven ages of man [illus.] Will. Commendatory verses. Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Twelfth nightC. Whittingham, 1826 |
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Página 105
... madam ; so you stumble not unheedfully . Jul . Of all the fair resort of gentlemen , That every day with parle1 encounter me , In thy opinion , which is worthiest love ? Luc . Please you , repeat their names , I'll show my mind ...
... madam ; so you stumble not unheedfully . Jul . Of all the fair resort of gentlemen , That every day with parle1 encounter me , In thy opinion , which is worthiest love ? Luc . Please you , repeat their names , I'll show my mind ...
Página 106
... madam . That the contents will show . Luc . Sir Valentine's page ; and sent , I think , from Proteus : He would have given it you , but I , being in the way , Did in your name receive it ; pardon the fault , I pray . Jul . Now , by my ...
... madam . That the contents will show . Luc . Sir Valentine's page ; and sent , I think , from Proteus : He would have given it you , but I , being in the way , Did in your name receive it ; pardon the fault , I pray . Jul . Now , by my ...
Página 107
... Madam , it will not lie where it concerns , Unless it have a false interpreter . Jul . Some love of your's hath writ to you in rhyme . Luc . That I might sing it , madam , to a tune : Give me a note : your ladyship can set7 . 6 Stomach ...
... Madam , it will not lie where it concerns , Unless it have a false interpreter . Jul . Some love of your's hath writ to you in rhyme . Luc . That I might sing it , madam , to a tune : Give me a note : your ladyship can set7 . 6 Stomach ...
Página 108
... madam ; it is too sharp . Jul . You , minion , are too saucy . Luc . Nay , now you are too flat , And mar the concord with too harsh a descant8 : There wanteth but a mean to fill your song . Jul . The mean is drown'd with your unruly ...
... madam ; it is too sharp . Jul . You , minion , are too saucy . Luc . Nay , now you are too flat , And mar the concord with too harsh a descant8 : There wanteth but a mean to fill your song . Jul . The mean is drown'd with your unruly ...
Página 109
... Madam , Dinner is ready , and your father stays . Jul . Well , let us go . Luc . What , shall these papers lie like tell - tales here ? Jul . If you respect them , best to take them up . Luc . Nay , I was taken up for laying them down ...
... Madam , Dinner is ready , and your father stays . Jul . Well , let us go . Luc . What , shall these papers lie like tell - tales here ? Jul . If you respect them , best to take them up . Luc . Nay , I was taken up for laying them down ...
Palavras e frases frequentes
ARIEL Ben Jonson Caius Caliban daugh daughter devil dost doth drama Duke editor Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fairies Falstaff father fool Ford gentleman Gentlemen of Verona give hand hath hear heart heaven honour Host humour Illyria Johnson Julia knave lady Laun letter lord madam Malone Malvolio Marry master Brook master doctor means mind Mira mistress Ford never night Olivia Pist play Poet pr'ythee pray Prospero Proteus Quick SCENE servant Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shal Silvia SIR ANDREW SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby SIR TOBY BELCH Slen Slender soul speak Speed spirit Steevens Stratford Susanna Hall sweet Sycorax tell thee there's thou art thou hast Thurio Trin unto Valentine Windsor woman word
Passagens conhecidas
Página 39 - I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none ; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ; No occupation ; all men idle, all ; And women too, — but innocent and pure ; No sovereignty, — Seb.
Página 81 - gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer a'Ction is In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Página 47 - Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o
Página 89 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods...
Página 27 - And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile : — Cursed be I that did so ! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you ! For I am all the subjects that you have, Which first was mine own king : and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o
Página 62 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometimes voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again...
Página 82 - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
Página 81 - By moon-shine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms ; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be,) I have be-dimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And...
Página 334 - Come 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 ! Duke.
Página 102 - Shakspeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion ; and, that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...