ComediesG. Routledge & Sons, 1867 |
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الصفحة 24
... I'll steal away . 1 Lord . There ' s honour in the theft . Par . Commit it , count . 2 Lord . I am your accessary ; and so farewell . and our parting is a tor- Ber . I grow to tured body . you , 1 Lord . Farewell , captain . 2 Lord ...
... I'll steal away . 1 Lord . There ' s honour in the theft . Par . Commit it , count . 2 Lord . I am your accessary ; and so farewell . and our parting is a tor- Ber . I grow to tured body . you , 1 Lord . Farewell , captain . 2 Lord ...
الصفحة 28
... I'll never do you wrong for your own sake : Blessing upon your vows ! and in your bed Find fairer fortune , if you ever wed ! Laf . These boys are boys of ice , they'll none have her : sure they are bastards to the English ; the French ...
... I'll never do you wrong for your own sake : Blessing upon your vows ! and in your bed Find fairer fortune , if you ever wed ! Laf . These boys are boys of ice , they'll none have her : sure they are bastards to the English ; the French ...
الصفحة 30
... I'll have no more pity of his age , than I would have of - I'll beat him , an if I could but meet him again . Re - enter LAFEU . Laf . Sirrah , your lord and master's married ; a Parolles , from this , and several passages of a similar ...
... I'll have no more pity of his age , than I would have of - I'll beat him , an if I could but meet him again . Re - enter LAFEU . Laf . Sirrah , your lord and master's married ; a Parolles , from this , and several passages of a similar ...
الصفحة 31
... I'll send her straight away : To - morrow I'll to the wars , she to her single sorrow . Par . Why , these balls bound ; there's noise in it . " T is hard : A young man married is a man that's marr'd : Therefore away , and leave her ...
... I'll send her straight away : To - morrow I'll to the wars , she to her single sorrow . Par . Why , these balls bound ; there's noise in it . " T is hard : A young man married is a man that's marr'd : Therefore away , and leave her ...
الصفحة 35
... I'll ven- ture to tread one mile with him myself . ' I looked upon her , saw mirth in her eyes , heard boldness in D 2 her words , and beheld her ready to tuck up her russet petticoat ; I fitted her with bells , which she merrily taking ...
... I'll ven- ture to tread one mile with him myself . ' I looked upon her , saw mirth in her eyes , heard boldness in D 2 her words , and beheld her ready to tuck up her russet petticoat ; I fitted her with bells , which she merrily taking ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
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
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.