Romeo and Juliet. Hamlet. Othello. Glossarial indexJ. Nichols, 1811 |
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الصفحة 127
... king ! Fran . Ber . Bernardo ? He . Fran . You come most carefully upon your hour . Ber . " Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed , Francisco . Fran . For this relief , much thanks : ' tis bitter cold , And I am sick at heart . Ber ...
... king ! Fran . Ber . Bernardo ? He . Fran . You come most carefully upon your hour . Ber . " Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed , Francisco . Fran . For this relief , much thanks : ' tis bitter cold , And I am sick at heart . Ber ...
الصفحة 129
... king that's dead . Mar. Thou art a scholar , speak to it , Horatio . * Ber . Looks it not like the king ? mark it , Ho- ratio . Hor . Most like : —it harrows me ' with fear , and wonder . Ber . It would be spoke to . Mar. Speak to it ...
... king that's dead . Mar. Thou art a scholar , speak to it , Horatio . * Ber . Looks it not like the king ? mark it , Ho- ratio . Hor . Most like : —it harrows me ' with fear , and wonder . Ber . It would be spoke to . Mar. Speak to it ...
الصفحة 131
... king , Whose image even but now appear'd to us , Was , as you know , by Fortinbras of Norway , Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride , Dar'd to the combat ; in which our valiant Hamlet ( For so this side of our known world esteem'd ...
... king , Whose image even but now appear'd to us , Was , as you know , by Fortinbras of Norway , Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride , Dar'd to the combat ; in which our valiant Hamlet ( For so this side of our known world esteem'd ...
الصفحة 132
... king That was , and is , the question of these wars.1 2 Hor . A mote it is , to trouble the mind's eye . In the most high and palmy state of Rome , 2 A little ere the mightiest Julius fell , The graves stood tenantless , and the sheeted ...
... king That was , and is , the question of these wars.1 2 Hor . A mote it is , to trouble the mind's eye . In the most high and palmy state of Rome , 2 A little ere the mightiest Julius fell , The graves stood tenantless , and the sheeted ...
الصفحة 135
... King , Queen , HAMLET , POLONIUS , LAERTES , VOLTIMAND , CORNELIUS , Lords , and Attendants . King . Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green ; and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief , and our whole ...
... King , Queen , HAMLET , POLONIUS , LAERTES , VOLTIMAND , CORNELIUS , Lords , and Attendants . King . Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green ; and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief , and our whole ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ancient art thou BENVOLIO blood Brabantio CAPULET Cassio Cyprus daughter dead dear death Denmark Desdemona devil dost thou doth Emil EMILIA Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear Fortinbras friar Friar LAURENCE gentleman give grief Guil GUILDENSTERN Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Horatio i'the Iago is't JOHNSON Juliet kill'd King lady Laer Laertes live look lord madam Mantua married means Mercutio Michael Cassio Montague Moor murder never night noble Nurse o'er Ophelia Othello play POLONIUS pray Prince Queen Roderigo Romeo ROSENCRANTZ ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's signifies soul speak STEEVENS sweet sword tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought to-night Tybalt Venice villain weep wife wilt word
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 213 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
الصفحة 355 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
الصفحة 134 - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : % And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
الصفحة 148 - Are most select and generous, chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all : to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
الصفحة 221 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
الصفحة 190 - I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
الصفحة 193 - To die, to sleep : To sleep : perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause : there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...
الصفحة 282 - Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me ! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
الصفحة 41 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke : but farewell compliment ! Dost thou love me ? I know thou wilt say " Ay ;" And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false ; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
الصفحة 138 - Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods...