The Works of William Shakespeare: Life, Glossary, &c : Reprinted from the Early Editions and Compared with Recent Commentators, Том 1F. Warne, 1875 - 1124 страници |
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Страница 72
... heard any soldier dislike it . Lucio . I believe thee ; for I think thou never wast where grace was said . 2 Gent . No ? a dozen times at least . I Gent . What , in metre ? [ guage . Lucio . In any proportion , or in any lan- 1 Gent . I ...
... heard any soldier dislike it . Lucio . I believe thee ; for I think thou never wast where grace was said . 2 Gent . No ? a dozen times at least . I Gent . What , in metre ? [ guage . Lucio . In any proportion , or in any lan- 1 Gent . I ...
Страница 84
... heard speak of Mariana , the sister of Frederick , the great soldier who miscarried at sea ? Isab . I have heard of the lady , and good words went with her name . But Duke . It lies much in your holding up . Haste you speedily to Angelo ...
... heard speak of Mariana , the sister of Frederick , the great soldier who miscarried at sea ? Isab . I have heard of the lady , and good words went with her name . But Duke . It lies much in your holding up . Haste you speedily to Angelo ...
Страница 94
... heard Your royal ear abus'd . First , hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute , Who is as free from touch or soil with her , As she from one ungot . Duke . We did believe no less . Know you that friar Lodowick , that she ...
... heard Your royal ear abus'd . First , hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your substitute , Who is as free from touch or soil with her , As she from one ungot . Duke . We did believe no less . Know you that friar Lodowick , that she ...
Страница 96
... heard , And hold no longer out . Ang . O my dread lord , I should be guiltier than my guiltiness , To think I can be undiscernible , When I perceive your grace , like power divine , Hath look'd upon my passes . Then , good prince , No ...
... heard , And hold no longer out . Ang . O my dread lord , I should be guiltier than my guiltiness , To think I can be undiscernible , When I perceive your grace , like power divine , Hath look'd upon my passes . Then , good prince , No ...
Страница 119
... heard it , what blessing bringeth it ? [ sufferance . Con . Can you make no use of your dis- content ? D. John . I make all use of it , for I use it only . - Who comes here ? [ Enter Borachio . ] What news , Borachio ? Bora . I came ...
... heard it , what blessing bringeth it ? [ sufferance . Con . Can you make no use of your dis- content ? D. John . I make all use of it , for I use it only . - Who comes here ? [ Enter Borachio . ] What news , Borachio ? Bora . I came ...
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Alençon arms art thou Bardolph bear better Biron blood Boyet brother Claud Claudio cousin daughter death doth Duke duke of York Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff father fear fool Ford France gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour Isab Kath king knave lady Leon Leonato live look lord Lucio madam maid majesty Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress never night noble pardon peace Pedro Pist Poins Pompey pr'ythee pray prince Proteus queen Re-enter Reignier Richard Plantagenet SCENE Shal shame signior Sir John Sir John Falstaff Somerset soul speak Suffolk swear sweet sword tell thee there's thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue true unto villain wife wilt word York
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Страница 222 - With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances, And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, His youthful hose well...
Страница 472 - That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you! Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war! — And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,...
Страница 444 - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Страница 389 - All murder'd; for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus Comes at the last and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Страница 6 - All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Страница 182 - Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ; That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt...
Страница 81 - 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 incertain thoughts Imagine howling ! 'tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Страница 17 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Страница 388 - Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.