ComediesG. Routledge & Sons, 1867 |
No interior do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 70
Página 7
... Hast strangely stood the test . " We know that the Love's Labours of Ferdinand are not severe trials , and that at their worst they were refreshed with " sweet thoughts . " Can they be compared with the Love's Labour of Helena ? Mr ...
... Hast strangely stood the test . " We know that the Love's Labours of Ferdinand are not severe trials , and that at their worst they were refreshed with " sweet thoughts . " Can they be compared with the Love's Labour of Helena ? Mr ...
Página 16
... hast leisure , say thy prayers ; when thou hast none , remember thy friends : get thee a good husband , and use him as he uses thee : so farewell . [ Exit . Hel . Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie , Which we ascribe to heaven : the ...
... hast leisure , say thy prayers ; when thou hast none , remember thy friends : get thee a good husband , and use him as he uses thee : so farewell . [ Exit . Hel . Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie , Which we ascribe to heaven : the ...
Página 28
... hast repeal'd , a second time receive The confirmation of my promis'd gift , Which but attends thy naming . Enter several Lords . Fair maid , send forth thine eye : this youthful parcel Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing , O'er ...
... hast repeal'd , a second time receive The confirmation of my promis'd gift , Which but attends thy naming . Enter several Lords . Fair maid , send forth thine eye : this youthful parcel Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing , O'er ...
Página 30
... hast to pull at a smack o ' the contrary . If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf , and beaten , thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage . I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee , or rather my knowledge , that I ...
... hast to pull at a smack o ' the contrary . If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf , and beaten , thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage . I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee , or rather my knowledge , that I ...
Página 38
... hast thou all again . Poor lord ! is ' t I That chase thee from thy country , and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the none - sparing war ? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court , where thou Wast shot at ...
... hast thou all again . Poor lord ! is ' t I That chase thee from thy country , and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the none - sparing war ? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court , where thou Wast shot at ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Palavras e frases frequentes
Adam Spencer Angelo Ariel Beat Beatrice Benedick better Bohemia brother Caliban Camillo Claud Claudio Clown comedy Count daughter death Dogb dost doth Duke Enter Escal Exeunt Exit eyes fair father folio fool forest of Arden friar gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hero hither honour ILLUSTRATIONS OF ACT Illyria Isab king knave lady Leon Leonato live look lord Lucio madam maid Malvolio marry master Measure for Measure mistress never night original Orlando passage Pedro play Pompey poor pray prince prithee Prospero Prov queen reading Rosalind SCENE Shakspere Shakspere's signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir TOBY speak spirit Steevens swear sweet Sycorax Tale of Gamelyn tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue Twelfth Night Winter's Tale word youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 412 - 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 317 - Well believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does.
Página 363 - Say, there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, over that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock ; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : This is an art Which does mend nature,— change it rather: but The art itself is nature.
Página 405 - t ; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o...
Página 205 - They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Página 220 - And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school : and then, the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress...
Página 435 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets* that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms...
Página 435 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be) I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the...
Página 435 - Have wak'd their sleepers ; op'd, and let them forth By my so potent art : But this rough magic I here abjure : and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I '11 break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I '11 drown my book.
Página 153 - 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.