The Plays of Shakspeare: Printed from the Text of Samuel Johnson, George Steevens, and Isaac Reed, Volym 6 |
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Sida 37
Fye , fye , unreverend tongue ! to call her bad , Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd With twenty thousand soul - confirming oaths . I cannot leave to love , and yet I do ; VOL . XI , с But there I leave to love , where I ...
Fye , fye , unreverend tongue ! to call her bad , Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd With twenty thousand soul - confirming oaths . I cannot leave to love , and yet I do ; VOL . XI , с But there I leave to love , where I ...
Sida 39
O , know'st thou not , his looks are my soul's food ? Pity the dearth that I have pined in , By longing for that food so long a time . Didst thou but know the inly touch of love , Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow , As seek ...
O , know'st thou not , his looks are my soul's food ? Pity the dearth that I have pined in , By longing for that food so long a time . Didst thou but know the inly touch of love , Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow , As seek ...
Sida 40
... hinder not my course : I'll be as patient as a gentle streain , And make a pastime of each weary step , Till the last step have brought me to my love ; And there I'll rest , as , after much turmoil , A blessed soul doth in Elysium .
... hinder not my course : I'll be as patient as a gentle streain , And make a pastime of each weary step , Till the last step have brought me to my love ; And there I'll rest , as , after much turmoil , A blessed soul doth in Elysium .
Sida 66
Thou art not ignorant , what dear good will I bear unto the banish'd Valentine ; Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vain Thurio , whom my very soul abhorr'd . Thyself hast loved ; and I have heard thee say , No grief did ever come ...
Thou art not ignorant , what dear good will I bear unto the banish'd Valentine ; Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vain Thurio , whom my very soul abhorr'd . Thyself hast loved ; and I have heard thee say , No grief did ever come ...
Sida 80
O , heaven be judge , how I love Valentine , Whose life's as tender to me as my soul ; And full as much , ( for more there cannot be , ) I do detest false perjur'd Proteus : Therefore be gone , solicit me no more . Pro .
O , heaven be judge , how I love Valentine , Whose life's as tender to me as my soul ; And full as much , ( for more there cannot be , ) I do detest false perjur'd Proteus : Therefore be gone , solicit me no more . Pro .
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bear blood breath CAPULET comes daughter dead dear death dost doth Duke earth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fall Farewell father fear follow friar gentle give gone grace Hamlet hand hath head hear heart heaven hence hold Horatio hour I'll Juliet keep King lady Laer Laertes Laun leave letter light live look lord madam Marry master mean mind mother nature never night Nurse play poor pray Proteus Queen rest Romeo SCENE servant Silvia sleep soul speak Speed stand stay sweet tears tell thank thee There's thing thou thou art thou hast thoughts true Tybalt Valentine watch wilt young youth
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Sida 279 - 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.
Sida 110 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Sida 337 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
Sida 261 - 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...
Sida 226 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine...
Sida 225 - So, oft it chances in particular men, That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, — wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin, — By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners, that these men, — Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, — Their virtues else — be they as pure as grace, As...
Sida 266 - Speak the speech I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus: but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.
Sida 267 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Sida 300 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more! Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th' event— A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward— I do not know Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do,' Sith I have cause,...
Sida 266 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Bibliografisk information
| Titel | The Plays of Shakspeare: Printed from the Text of Samuel Johnson, George Steevens, and Isaac Reed, Volym 6 The Plays of Shakspeare: Printed from the Text of Samuel Johnson, George Steevens, and Isaac Reed, William Shakespeare |
| Författare | William Shakespeare |
| Utgivare | Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1807 |
| Original från | New York Public Library |
| Digitaliserad | 27 dec 2006 |
| Exportera citat | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |