Works: Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. Comedy of errors. Much ado about nothing. Love's labour's lost. A midsummer-night's dream. The merchant of Venice. As you like it. Taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night, or What you will. Winter's tale. King JohnG. Routledge, 1889 |
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Página 7
... Hast thou , spirit , Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee ? Ari . To every article . I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak , Now in the waist , the deck , in every cabin , I flam'd amazement : Sometime I'd divide And ...
... Hast thou , spirit , Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee ? Ari . To every article . I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak , Now in the waist , the deck , in every cabin , I flam'd amazement : Sometime I'd divide And ...
Página 8
... hast dispos'd , And all the rest o ' the fleet . Ari . Safely in harbour Is the king's ship ; in the deep nook , where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still - vex'd Bermoothes , there she ' s hid : The ...
... hast dispos'd , And all the rest o ' the fleet . Ari . Safely in harbour Is the king's ship ; in the deep nook , where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still - vex'd Bermoothes , there she ' s hid : The ...
Página 9
... hast : Where was she born ? speak ; tell me . Ari . Sir , in Argier . Pro . O , was she so ? I must , Once in a month , recount what thou hast been , Which thou forgett'st . This damn'd witch , Sycorax , For mischiefs manifold , and ...
... hast : Where was she born ? speak ; tell me . Ari . Sir , in Argier . Pro . O , was she so ? I must , Once in a month , recount what thou hast been , Which thou forgett'st . This damn'd witch , Sycorax , For mischiefs manifold , and ...
Página 10
... hast slept well ; Awake ! Mira . The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me . Pro . We'll visit Caliban , my slave , who never Yields us kind answer . Mira . Shake it off : Come on ; ' T is a villain , sir , But , as ' t is , I ...
... hast slept well ; Awake ! Mira . The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me . Pro . We'll visit Caliban , my slave , who never Yields us kind answer . Mira . Shake it off : Come on ; ' T is a villain , sir , But , as ' t is , I ...
Página 13
... hast put thyself Upon this island , as a spy , to win it From me , the lord on ' t . Fer . No , as I am a man . Mira . There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple : If the ill spirit have so fair a house , Good things will strive to ...
... hast put thyself Upon this island , as a spy , to win it From me , the lord on ' t . Fer . No , as I am a man . Mira . There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple : If the ill spirit have so fair a house , Good things will strive to ...
Palavras e frases frequentes
Angelo art thou Bast Beat Benedick better Biron blood Boyet brother Caius Claud Claudio COSTARD daughter dear death dost thou doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faulconbridge fear fool Ford gentle gentleman give grace Gremio hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour husband Illyria Isab John Kath King knave lady Laun Leon Leonato look lord Lucio Lysander madam maid Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress Moth never night pardon Pedro Pompey pray prince prithee Proteus Puck Re-enter Rosalind SCENE servant Shylock signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK soul speak Speed swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue Tranio troth true unto villain What's wife woman word
Passagens conhecidas
Página 793 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Página 464 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam. The seasons' difference, — as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 'This is no flattery' — these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.