Life. New facts regarding the life of Shakespeare [by P. J. Collier] Shakespeare's will. Preface of the players [1623] Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Twelfth night. Measure for measure. Much ado about nothingPhillips and Samson, 1848 |
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Sida 101
... Laun . Nay , ' twill be this hour ere I have done weeping ; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault ; I have received my proportion , like the pro- digious son , and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court . I think ...
... Laun . Nay , ' twill be this hour ere I have done weeping ; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault ; I have received my proportion , like the pro- digious son , and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court . I think ...
Sida 102
... Laun . For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue . Pan . Where should I lose my tongue ? Laun . In thy tale . Pan . In thy tail ? Laun . Lose the tide , and the voyage , and the mas- ter , and the service : And the tide ! -Why , man , if ...
... Laun . For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue . Pan . Where should I lose my tongue ? Laun . In thy tale . Pan . In thy tail ? Laun . Lose the tide , and the voyage , and the mas- ter , and the service : And the tide ! -Why , man , if ...
Sida 109
... Laun . Marry , after they closed in earnest , they parted very fairly in jest . Speed . But shall she marry him ? Laun . No. Speed . How then ? shall he marry her ? Laun . No , neither . Speed . What , are they broken ? Luun . No , they ...
... Laun . Marry , after they closed in earnest , they parted very fairly in jest . Speed . But shall she marry him ? Laun . No. Speed . How then ? shall he marry her ? Laun . No , neither . Speed . What , are they broken ? Luun . No , they ...
Sida 110
... Laun . Ay , and what I do too : look thee I'll but lean , and my staff understands me . Speed . It stands under thee , indeed . Laun . Why , stand under and understand is all one . Speed . But tell me true , will't be a match ? Laun ...
... Laun . Ay , and what I do too : look thee I'll but lean , and my staff understands me . Speed . It stands under thee , indeed . Laun . Why , stand under and understand is all one . Speed . But tell me true , will't be a match ? Laun ...
Sida 120
... Laun . Can nothing speak ? master , shall I strike ? Pro . Whom would'st thou strike ? Laun . Nothing . Pro . Villain , forbear . Laun . Why , sir , I'll strike nothing : I pray you- Pro . Sirrah , I say , forbear : Friend Valentine , a ...
... Laun . Can nothing speak ? master , shall I strike ? Pro . Whom would'st thou strike ? Laun . Nothing . Pro . Villain , forbear . Laun . Why , sir , I'll strike nothing : I pray you- Pro . Sirrah , I say , forbear : Friend Valentine , a ...
Vanliga ord och fraser
actor ARIEL Blackfriars Blackfriars theatre Bridgewater House Burbage Caius Caliban daughter dost doth dramatic Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff father fool gentle gentlemen give hath hear heart heaven honor Host James Burbage Julia king knave lady Laun letter Lord Ellesmere madam Malone Marry master Brook master doctor Milan mind Mira mistress Anne mistress Ford monster never night Pist play Poet pray Prospero Proteus Quick Richard Burbage SCENE servant Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shal Shallow Silvia Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Proteus Slen speak Speed spirit Stratford Stratford upon Avon Susanna Hall sweet Sycorax tell theatre thee there's thou art thou hast Thurio Trin Trinculo unto Valentine wife William Shakspeare William Tuthill Windsor woman word
Populära avsnitt
Sida 69 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough ". PRO.
Sida 373 - 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 regions of thick-ribbed ice...
Sida 357 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Sida 51 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Sida 22 - would it had been done ! Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans. Pro. Abhorred slave ; Which any print of goodness will not take, Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other; when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known...
Sida 249 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Sida 67 - gainst my fury Do I take part : the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Sida 385 - 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.
Sida 278 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown...
Sida 68 - Have waked their sleepers ; oped, and let them forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure : and, when I have required 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.