The Works of Shakespeare in Seven Volumes, Том 7A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch, 1733 |
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Сторінка 10
... art thou angry , Pandarus ? what , with me ? Pan . Because she is kin to me , therefore he's not fo fair as Helen ; an fhe were not kin to me , fhe would be as fair on Friday , as Helen is on Sunday . But what care I ? I care not , an ...
... art thou angry , Pandarus ? what , with me ? Pan . Because she is kin to me , therefore he's not fo fair as Helen ; an fhe were not kin to me , fhe would be as fair on Friday , as Helen is on Sunday . But what care I ? I care not , an ...
Сторінка 34
... thou learn a prayer without book : thou canst ftrike , canft thou ? a red murrain o ' thy jade's tricks ! Ajax ... art proclaim'd a fool , I think . Ajax . Do not , porcupine , do not ; my fingers itch . Ther . I would , thou didst itch ...
... thou learn a prayer without book : thou canst ftrike , canft thou ? a red murrain o ' thy jade's tricks ! Ajax ... art proclaim'd a fool , I think . Ajax . Do not , porcupine , do not ; my fingers itch . Ther . I would , thou didst itch ...
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... thy heel , and tell what thou art by inches , thou thing of no bowels , thou ! Ajax . You dog ! Ther . You fcurvy lord ! Ajax . You cur ! [ Beating him . Ther . Mars his ideot ! do , rudeness ; do , camel , do , do . Enter Achilles and ...
... thy heel , and tell what thou art by inches , thou thing of no bowels , thou ! Ajax . You dog ! Ther . You fcurvy lord ! Ajax . You cur ! [ Beating him . Ther . Mars his ideot ! do , rudeness ; do , camel , do , do . Enter Achilles and ...
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... thou great thunder- darter of Olympus , forget that thou art Jove the King of Gods ; and , Mercury , lofe all the ferpentine craft of thy Caduceus , if thou take not that little , little , less than little wit from them that they have ...
... thou great thunder- darter of Olympus , forget that thou art Jove the King of Gods ; and , Mercury , lofe all the ferpentine craft of thy Caduceus , if thou take not that little , little , less than little wit from them that they have ...
Сторінка 47
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). Patr . What , art thou devout ? waft thou in prayer ? Ther . Ay , the heav'ns hear me ! Enter Achilles . Achil . Who's there ? Patr . Therfites , my lord . - Achil . Where , where ? art thou come ...
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). Patr . What , art thou devout ? waft thou in prayer ? Ther . Ay , the heav'ns hear me ! Enter Achilles . Achil . Who's there ? Patr . Therfites , my lord . - Achil . Where , where ? art thou come ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax anſwer becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Calchas call'd Capulet Clown death Desdemona Diomede doft doth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair falfe fame father feems felf fhall fhew fhould firft flain fleep fome foul fpeak ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword give Hamlet hath heart heav'n Hector himſelf honeft honour houſe i'th Iago is't Juliet King lady Laer Laertes laft lord Menelaus moft moſt muft murther muſt Neft night Nurfe Nurſe Othello Paffage Pandarus Patroclus Poet Polonius Pope pray Priam purpoſe Quarto Queen Reaſon Rodorigo Romeo Senfe Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe Ther there's theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art Troi Troilus Tybalt uſe whofe wife William Shakespeare word
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Сторінка 70 - Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Сторінка 281 - Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her!
Сторінка 251 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres...
Сторінка 292 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Сторінка 327 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Сторінка 170 - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die ! like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.
Сторінка 443 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
Сторінка 247 - The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels ; And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.
Сторінка 154 - What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for thy. name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself.
Сторінка 274 - In form and moving how express and admirable ! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, — no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.