The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Volym 10G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Sida 68
... sorrow : Leak'd is our bark ; And we , poor mates , stand on the dying deck , Hearing the surges threat : we must all part Into this sea of air . Flav . Good fellows all , The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you . Wherever we ...
... sorrow : Leak'd is our bark ; And we , poor mates , stand on the dying deck , Hearing the surges threat : we must all part Into this sea of air . Flav . Good fellows all , The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you . Wherever we ...
Sida 171
... Sorrow concealed , like an oven stopp'd , Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is . Fair Philomela , she but lost her tongue , And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind : But , lovely niece , that mean is cut from thee ; A craftier ...
... Sorrow concealed , like an oven stopp'd , Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is . Fair Philomela , she but lost her tongue , And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind : But , lovely niece , that mean is cut from thee ; A craftier ...
Sida 174
... sorrows to a stone . Tit . Ah , Lucius , for thy brothers let me plead : Grave tribunes , once more I entreat of you . Luc . My gracious lord , no tribune hears you speak . Tit . Why , ' tis no matter , man : if they did hear , They ...
... sorrows to a stone . Tit . Ah , Lucius , for thy brothers let me plead : Grave tribunes , once more I entreat of you . Luc . My gracious lord , no tribune hears you speak . Tit . Why , ' tis no matter , man : if they did hear , They ...
Sida 175
... sorrow to thine age . Tit . Will it consume me ? let me see it then . Mar. This was thy daughter . Tit . Why , Marcus , so she is .. Luc . Ah me ! this object kills me ! Tit . Faint - hearted boy , arise , and look upon her : - Speak ...
... sorrow to thine age . Tit . Will it consume me ? let me see it then . Mar. This was thy daughter . Tit . Why , Marcus , so she is .. Luc . Ah me ! this object kills me ! Tit . Faint - hearted boy , arise , and look upon her : - Speak ...
Sida 177
... sorrow that their sister makes.- Gentle Lavinia , let me kiss thy lips ; Or make some sign how I may do thee ease : Shall thy good uncle , and thy brother Lucius , And thou , and I , sit round about some fountain ; Looking all downwards ...
... sorrow that their sister makes.- Gentle Lavinia , let me kiss thy lips ; Or make some sign how I may do thee ease : Shall thy good uncle , and thy brother Lucius , And thou , and I , sit round about some fountain ; Looking all downwards ...
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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.