The Works of William Shakespeare: The tempest. The two gentlemen of Verona. The merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. The comedy of errorsMacmillan, 1863 - 1075 páginas |
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Página 7
... wife May show her duty and make known her love ? ' 95 100 105 IIO 115 And then with kind embracements , tempting kisses , And with declining head into his bosom , Bid him shed tears , as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restored to ...
... wife May show her duty and make known her love ? ' 95 100 105 IIO 115 And then with kind embracements , tempting kisses , And with declining head into his bosom , Bid him shed tears , as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restored to ...
Página 9
... wife of Wincot , if she know me not if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale , score me up for the lyingest knave in Christen- dom . What ! I am not bestraught : here's- ΙΟ 15 20 Third Serv . O , this it is that ...
... wife of Wincot , if she know me not if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale , score me up for the lyingest knave in Christen- dom . What ! I am not bestraught : here's- ΙΟ 15 20 Third Serv . O , this it is that ...
Página 11
... . Enter ... ] Capell . Enter Lady with Attendants . Ff Q ( after line 96 ) . 98-100 . Capell prints as two lines How ... well ; For ... wife ? Sly . Marry , I fare well ; for here SCENE II . ] THE TAMING OF THE SHREW . II.
... . Enter ... ] Capell . Enter Lady with Attendants . Ff Q ( after line 96 ) . 98-100 . Capell prints as two lines How ... well ; For ... wife ? Sly . Marry , I fare well ; for here SCENE II . ] THE TAMING OF THE SHREW . II.
Página 12
... wife ? Page . Here , noble lord : what is thy will with her ? Sly . Are you my wife and will not call me husband ? My men should call me ' lord : ' I am your good - man . Page . My husband and my lord , my lord and husband ; I am your wife ...
... wife ? Page . Here , noble lord : what is thy will with her ? Sly . Are you my wife and will not call me husband ? My men should call me ' lord : ' I am your good - man . Page . My husband and my lord , my lord and husband ; I am your wife ...
Términos y frases comunes
Anon Baptista Becket conj better Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia Cambridge Camillo Capell conj cloth College Collier Collier Count Crown 8vo daughter Duke Dyce Enter Exeunt Exit F₁ F₂ father Fcap fellow Ff Q Folio fool Gent gentleman Grant White Gremio Hanmer hast hath Heath conj Hermione honour Hortensio Illyria is't Johnson conj Kate Kath Katharina King knave lady Leon lines in Ff lord Lucentio madam Malone conj Malvolio marry master mistress Olivia Padua Petruchio Pope pray prithee Rann Re-enter Rousillon Rowe Rowe ed SCENE Second Edition servant Shep Sicilia Signior Sir Toby sirrah speak sweet tell thee Theo Theobald conj there's thine thou art Tranio Trinity College University of Cambridge Walker conj Warburton wife ΙΟ
Pasajes populares
Página 377 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one!
Página 376 - But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Página 112 - Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull.
Página 250 - ... 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 ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Página 180 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Página 252 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.