The Works of William Shakespeare: The Plays Ed. from the Folio of MDCXXIII, with Various Readings from All the Editions and All the Commentators, Notes, Introductory Remarks, a Historical Sketch of the Text, an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Drama, a Memoir of the Poet, and an Essay Upon the Genius, Том 3Little, Brown, 1863 |
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Страница 23
... beats the nurse , and quite athwart Goes all decorum . Fri. It rested in your Grace To unloose this tied - up justice when you pleas'd , And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd Than in Lord Angelo . Duke . I do fear , too dreadful ...
... beats the nurse , and quite athwart Goes all decorum . Fri. It rested in your Grace To unloose this tied - up justice when you pleas'd , And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd Than in Lord Angelo . Duke . I do fear , too dreadful ...
Страница 35
... beat you to your tent , and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you . In plain dealing , Pompey , I shall have you whipp'd . So , for this : time , Pompey , fare you well . Clo . I thank your worship for your good coun- sel , but I shall follow it ...
... beat you to your tent , and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you . In plain dealing , Pompey , I shall have you whipp'd . So , for this : time , Pompey , fare you well . Clo . I thank your worship for your good coun- sel , but I shall follow it ...
Страница 46
... beats for vain . O place ! O form ! How often dost thou with thy case , thy habit , Wrench awe from fools , and tie the wiser souls To thy false seeming ! Blood , thou art blood : Let's write good angel on the devil's horn , ' Tis not ...
... beats for vain . O place ! O form ! How often dost thou with thy case , thy habit , Wrench awe from fools , and tie the wiser souls To thy false seeming ! Blood , thou art blood : Let's write good angel on the devil's horn , ' Tis not ...
Страница 82
... beat out my brains with billets . I will not consent to die this day , that's certain . Duke . O , sir , you must ; and therefore , I beseech you , Look forward on the journey you shall go . Barnar . I swear , I will not die to - day ...
... beat out my brains with billets . I will not consent to die this day , that's certain . Duke . O , sir , you must ; and therefore , I beseech you , Look forward on the journey you shall go . Barnar . I swear , I will not die to - day ...
Страница 152
... beat me there . Adr . Go back again , thou slave , and fetch him home . Dro . E. Go back again , and be new beaten ... beating . Between you , I shall have a holy head . Adr . Hence , prating peasant ! fetch thy master home . Dro . E. Am ...
... beat me there . Adr . Go back again , thou slave , and fetch him home . Dro . E. Go back again , and be new beaten ... beating . Between you , I shall have a holy head . Adr . Hence , prating peasant ! fetch thy master home . Dro . E. Am ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
Antipholus Armado Bawd Beat Beatrice Benedick Birone Bora Borachio Boyet brother Claud Claudio Collier's folio Comedy Comedy of Errors Cost Costard death Dogb Don PEDRO dost thou doth Dromio Duke Dyce Enter Ephesus error Escal Exeunt Exit fair Folio and quarto fool Friar Gentlemen of Verona give Grace hast hath hear heart Heaven Hero hither hitherto honour husband Isab John King lady Leon Leonato look Lord Angelo LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST Lucio maid Marry Master Master Constable mean Measure for Measure merry misprint mistress Moth never original pardon placket play Pompey pray Prince Prov Provost rhyme Rosaline SCENE second folio sense Shakespeare's day shame Signior speak speech Steevens sweet tell thee Theobald there's thou art to-morrow tongue villain wench wife word
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Страница 70 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain. seal'd in vain.
Страница 56 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and inccrtain thoughts Imagine howling ! — 'tis too horrible.
Страница 441 - To move wild laughter in the throat of death ? It cannot be ; it is impossible : Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools. A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it...
Страница 290 - Of every hearer; for it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value ; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show us, Whiles it was ours.
Страница 28 - WE must not make a scare-crow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
Страница 367 - Birone they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Страница 14 - That to th' observer doth thy history Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Страница 258 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Страница 41 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet; For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder ; Nothing but thunder.
Страница 104 - Isabel, Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me ; Hold up your hands, say nothing, I'll speak all. They say, best men are moulded out of faults ; And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad : so may my husband.