 Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your...  Select British Classics - Страница 3181803Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата
 | William Shakespeare - 1709 - 598 страници
...that were wont to kt the Table on a Roar ? No one now to mock your own Jeering? Quite chop fall'n? Now get you to my Lady's Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour (he muft come; Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thi;-g.... | |
 | 1729 - 320 страници
...that were wont to jet the Tableon a Roar : No one new to mock your own Jeering! : quite'Chop-fallen. Now get you to my Lady's Chamber, and tell her, Let her paint an Inch thick, to this favour flie muft come. Make her laugh at that.. IT is an Infolence natural to the Wealthy,... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1733 - 520 страници
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thofe lips, that I have kifs'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your fongs ? your flames of merriment, that were wont to fet the table in a roar ? not one now, to mock... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1745 - 574 страници
...how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thole lips that I have kifs'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your fongs ? your flafhes of merriment that were wont to fet the table in a roar ? not one now, to mock... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1765 - 540 страници
...to, fet the table in a roar ? nqt one now*, to mock your own grinning ? quite,, chap-fallen,? nov»;, get you to my lady's chamber, and. tell her, le.t her paint an, inc,h thickj to this, favour fhe, mu^ cpmft? make her laugh at that.—Pr'ythee^ Horatio, tell,nae one thing.... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1765 - 540 страници
...how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thofe lips, that I have kifs'dl know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your fongs- ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to fet the tabk in a roar ? not one. now, to mock... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1767 - 484 страници
...to/et ifee. table in a roar? iptLOnenow, to mock your^own grinning ? grinning? quite chap-fallen .' now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to • this favour fhe muft come ; make her laugh at that— Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1770 - 956 страници
...abhorred * b in my imagination c it is d ! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thofe lips, that I have kifs'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols, your fongs, your flafhes of merriment, that were wont to fet the table e on a roar ? f Not one now to mock... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1771 - 382 страници
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thofe lips that I have kifs'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ; your gambols; your fongs : your flalhes ot merriment that were wont to fet the table in a roar ? not one now, to mock... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1772 - 370 страници
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rifes at it. Here hung thofe lips that I have killed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your fongs ? your flafhes of merriment, that were wont to fet the table in a roar? not one now to mock your... | |
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