The Works of William Shakespeare: The Plays Ed. from the Folio of MDCXXIII, with Various Readings from All the Editions and All the Commentators, Notes, Introductory Remarks, a Historical Sketch of the Text, an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Drama, a Memoir of the Poet, and an Essay Upon the Genius, Том 5Little, Brown, 1863 |
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Сторінка 15
... heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek . No more of this , Helena : go to , no more ; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have . Helena . I do affect a sorrow , indeed , but I have it ...
... heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek . No more of this , Helena : go to , no more ; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have . Helena . I do affect a sorrow , indeed , but I have it ...
Сторінка 16
... heart's table ; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour : But now he's gone , and Must sanctify his relics . my idolatrous fancy Who comes here ? Enter PAROlles . One that goes with him : I love him for his sake ...
... heart's table ; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour : But now he's gone , and Must sanctify his relics . my idolatrous fancy Who comes here ? Enter PAROlles . One that goes with him : I love him for his sake ...
Сторінка 25
... hearts are sev- er'd in religion , their heads are both one , they may joll horns together like any deer i ' th ' herd . Count . Wilt thou ever be a foul - mouth'd and ca- lumnious knave ? Clo . A prophet I , Madam ; and I speak the ...
... hearts are sev- er'd in religion , their heads are both one , they may joll horns together like any deer i ' th ' herd . Count . Wilt thou ever be a foul - mouth'd and ca- lumnious knave ? Clo . A prophet I , Madam ; and I speak the ...
Сторінка 26
... heart out ere ' a pluck one . Count . You'll be gone , sir knave , and do as I com- mand you ! Clo . That man should be at woman's command , and yet no hurt done ! Though honesty be no Pu- ritan , yet it will do no hurt ; it will wear ...
... heart out ere ' a pluck one . Count . You'll be gone , sir knave , and do as I com- mand you ! Clo . That man should be at woman's command , and yet no hurt done ! Though honesty be no Pu- ritan , yet it will do no hurt ; it will wear ...
Сторінка 32
... heart Will not confess he owes the malady That doth my life besiege . Farewell , young lords ; Whether I live or die ... hearts receive your warnings . Come hither to me . [ The KING retires to a couch . 1 Lord . O my sweet lord , that ...
... heart Will not confess he owes the malady That doth my life besiege . Farewell , young lords ; Whether I live or die ... hearts receive your warnings . Come hither to me . [ The KING retires to a couch . 1 Lord . O my sweet lord , that ...
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Antigonus Autolycus BERTRAM beseech better Bohemia Camillo Clown Collier's folio corruption Count daughter dear dost Duke Enter Exeunt Exit father Fool Gent gentleman give hand hath hear heart Heaven Helena Hermione honest honour Illyria King knave lady Lafeu Leon Leontes look lord Love's Labour's Lost Love's Labour's Won Madam maid Malvolio marry means Measure for Measure misprint mistress morris dance Narbon never night noble Note Olivia original Pandosto Parolles passage Paul Paulina play Polixenes pr'ythee pray Queen Rousillon SCENE sense Shakespeare's Shakespeare's day Shep shew Sicilia Sir Andrew Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH song speak speech Steevens swear sweet tell thee There's thine thing thou art thought Twelfth Night wife Winter's Tale word youth
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Сторінка 155 - 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.
Сторінка 41 - They say miracles are past ; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
Сторінка 179 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low. Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.
Сторінка 82 - 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.
Сторінка 330 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year, For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge, For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay, Are summer songs for me and my aunts, While we lie tumbling in the hay.
Сторінка 324 - I would, there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.
Сторінка 186 - 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.
Сторінка 338 - 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!
Сторінка 20 - 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.
Сторінка 337 - 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.