The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Volym 10G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Sida 12
... hast a servant nam'd Lucilius . Tim . I have so : what of him ? Old Ath . Most noble Timon , call the man before thee . Tim . Attends he here , or no ? -Lucilius ! Enter LUCILIUS . Luc . Here , at your lordship's service . Old Ath ...
... hast a servant nam'd Lucilius . Tim . I have so : what of him ? Old Ath . Most noble Timon , call the man before thee . Tim . Attends he here , or no ? -Lucilius ! Enter LUCILIUS . Luc . Here , at your lordship's service . Old Ath ...
Sida 16
... Apem . Art not a poet ? Poet . Yes . Apem . Then thou liest : look in thy last work , where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow . Poet . That's not feign'd , he is so . Apem . Yes , he is worthy of thee , 16 TIMON OF ATHENS .
... Apem . Art not a poet ? Poet . Yes . Apem . Then thou liest : look in thy last work , where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow . Poet . That's not feign'd , he is so . Apem . Yes , he is worthy of thee , 16 TIMON OF ATHENS .
Sida 29
... hast Lie in a pitch'd field . Alcib . Ay , defiled land , my lord . 1 Lord . We are so virtuously bound , - Tim . Am I to you . 2 Lord . So infinitely endear'd , And so Tim . All to you . - Lights , more lights . 1 Lord . The best of ...
... hast Lie in a pitch'd field . Alcib . Ay , defiled land , my lord . 1 Lord . We are so virtuously bound , - Tim . Am I to you . 2 Lord . So infinitely endear'd , And so Tim . All to you . - Lights , more lights . 1 Lord . The best of ...
Sida 43
... hast thou there under thy cloak , pretty Flaminius ? Flam . ' Faith , nothing but an empty box , sir : which , in my lord's behalf , I come to entreat your honour to supply ; who , having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents ...
... hast thou there under thy cloak , pretty Flaminius ? Flam . ' Faith , nothing but an empty box , sir : which , in my lord's behalf , I come to entreat your honour to supply ; who , having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents ...
Sida 74
... hast conquer'd ! Alcib . Tim . That , Why me , Timon ? By killing villains , thou wast born to conquer My country . Put up thy gold ; Go on , -here's gold , -go on ; Be as a planetary plague , when Jove Will o'er some high - vic'd city ...
... hast conquer'd ! Alcib . Tim . That , Why me , Timon ? By killing villains , thou wast born to conquer My country . Put up thy gold ; Go on , -here's gold , -go on ; Be as a planetary plague , when Jove Will o'er some high - vic'd city ...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Utgåva 10 William Shakespeare Fragmentarisk förhandsgranskning - 1806 |
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Aaron Alcib Alcibiades Antiochus Apem Apemantus Athens Bassianus Bawd blood Boult brother CHIRON Cleon daughter dead death deed DEMETRIUS Dionyza dost thou doth emperor empress Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes father fear feast Fish Flav fool fortune friends give gods gold Goths Gower grief hand hath hear heart heaven Helicanus hither honest honour JOHNSON king knight lady Lavinia live look lord Timon lordship Lucius Lucullus Lychorida Lysimachus Marcus Marina mistress Mitylene musick ne'er never noble Pain Pentapolis Pericles Phrynia Poet pray prince PRINCE OF TYRE queen revenge Rome Rome's Saturninus SCENE Senators Serv Servant Shakspeare Simonides sons sorrow speak STEEVENS sweet Tamora tears tell Thai Thaisa Tharsus thee There's thine thou art thou hast thyself TIMON OF ATHENS TITUS ANDRONICUS tongue tribune Tyre unto villain weep would'st
Populära avsnitt
Sida 71 - Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves And give them title, knee and approbation With senators on the bench...
Sida 87 - The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea : the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun : The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears : the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement : each thing's a thief ; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft.
Sida 101 - Come not to me again : but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood ; Who once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover : thither come, And let my grave-stone be your oracle.