The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, المجلد 4Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate, next Grays-Inn Lane., 1709 |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 40
الصفحة 1813
... Troi . The Greeks are ftrong , and skilful to their ftrength , Fierce to their skill , and to their fiercenefs valiant : But I am weaker than a Woman's Tear , Tamer than Sleep , fonder than Ignorance ; Lefs valiant than the Virgin in ...
... Troi . The Greeks are ftrong , and skilful to their ftrength , Fierce to their skill , and to their fiercenefs valiant : But I am weaker than a Woman's Tear , Tamer than Sleep , fonder than Ignorance ; Lefs valiant than the Virgin in ...
الصفحة 1814
... Troi . Have I not tarried ? Pan . Ay , the Grinding ; but you must tarry the Boulting . Troi . Have I not tarried ? Pan . Ay , the Boulting ; but you must tarry the Leav'ning . Troi . Still have I tarried . Pan . Ay , to the Leav'ning ...
... Troi . Have I not tarried ? Pan . Ay , the Grinding ; but you must tarry the Boulting . Troi . Have I not tarried ? Pan . Ay , the Boulting ; but you must tarry the Leav'ning . Troi . Still have I tarried . Pan . Ay , to the Leav'ning ...
الصفحة 1815
... Troi . Good Pandarus ; how now , Pandarus ? Pan . I have had my labour for my travel , ill thought on of her , and ill thought on of you : Gone between and be tween , but small thanks for my labour . Troi . What art thou angry ...
... Troi . Good Pandarus ; how now , Pandarus ? Pan . I have had my labour for my travel , ill thought on of her , and ill thought on of you : Gone between and be tween , but small thanks for my labour . Troi . What art thou angry ...
الصفحة 1816
... Troi . Let Paris bleed , ' tis but a scar to Scorn . Paris is gor'd with Menelaus Horn . [ Alarum . Ane . Hark , what good Sport is out of Town to day ? Troi . Better at home , if Would I might , were May- are you bound thither ? But to ...
... Troi . Let Paris bleed , ' tis but a scar to Scorn . Paris is gor'd with Menelaus Horn . [ Alarum . Ane . Hark , what good Sport is out of Town to day ? Troi . Better at home , if Would I might , were May- are you bound thither ? But to ...
الصفحة 1818
... Troi Lus ; I can tell them that too . Cre . What is he angry too ? Pan . Who , Troilus ? Troilus is the better Man of the two . Cre . Oh Jupiter ; there's no comparifon . Pan . What not between Troilus and Hector ? do you know a Man if ...
... Troi Lus ; I can tell them that too . Cre . What is he angry too ? Pan . Who , Troilus ? Troilus is the better Man of the two . Cre . Oh Jupiter ; there's no comparifon . Pan . What not between Troilus and Hector ? do you know a Man if ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Calchas Caufe Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Coufin Crown Curfe Death defire Diomede doth Duke Duke of York e'er Edward Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes fafe faid Farewel Father fear felf felves fent fhall fhew fhould flain fome fpeak Friends ftand ftay ftill fuch fweet give Goths Grace Haftings Hand hath hear Heart Heav'n Hector Henry himſelf Honour i'th King Lady Lavinia lefs Lord Lord Chamberlain Love Lucius Madam Martius moft morrow muft muſt Noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Peace pleaſe pleaſure pray prefent Priam Prince Queen Reafon reft Rich Rome ſhall Soul ſpeak Sword Tears tell thee thefe Ther theſe thine thofe thou art Titus Titus Andronicus Tongue Troi Troilus unto Vlyf Warwick whofe
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 1630 - Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
الصفحة 1774 - This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
الصفحة 1776 - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...
الصفحة 1859 - That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O ! let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was ; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded...
الصفحة 1567 - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many years...
الصفحة 1777 - Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
الصفحة 1839 - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
الصفحة 1775 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
الصفحة 1782 - O, father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
الصفحة 1749 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.