The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, Том 8H. Woodfall, 1767 |
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Сторінка 16
... pray thee ? Rom . For your broken shin . Ben . Why , Romeo , art thou mad ? Rom . Not mad , but bound more than a ... pray , Sir , can you read ? Rom . Ay , mine own fortune is my mifery . Serv . Perhaps , you have learn'd it without ...
... pray thee ? Rom . For your broken shin . Ben . Why , Romeo , art thou mad ? Rom . Not mad , but bound more than a ... pray , Sir , can you read ? Rom . Ay , mine own fortune is my mifery . Serv . Perhaps , you have learn'd it without ...
Сторінка 17
... pray , come and crush a cup of wine . Reft you merry . Ben . At this fame ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rofaline , whom thou fo lov'ft ; With all th ' admired beauties of Verona . Go thither , and , with unattainted eye ...
... pray , come and crush a cup of wine . Reft you merry . Ben . At this fame ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rofaline , whom thou fo lov'ft ; With all th ' admired beauties of Verona . Go thither , and , with unattainted eye ...
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... pray thee , hold thy peace . Nurfe . Yes , Madam ; yet I cannot chufe but laugh , to think it should leave crying ,, and fay , Ay ; and yet , I warrant , it had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockrel's stone . a perilous knock ...
... pray thee , hold thy peace . Nurfe . Yes , Madam ; yet I cannot chufe but laugh , to think it should leave crying ,, and fay , Ay ; and yet , I warrant , it had upon its brow a bump as big as a young cockrel's stone . a perilous knock ...
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... pray , ( grant thou ) left faith turn to despair . Jul . Saints do not move , yet grant for prayers ' fake . Rom . 1 hen move not , while my prayers ' effect I take : Thus from my lips , by thine , my fin is purg'd . [ Kiffing her . Jul ...
... pray , ( grant thou ) left faith turn to despair . Jul . Saints do not move , yet grant for prayers ' fake . Rom . 1 hen move not , while my prayers ' effect I take : Thus from my lips , by thine , my fin is purg'd . [ Kiffing her . Jul ...
Сторінка 39
... pray , That thou confent to marry us this day . " Fri. Holy Saint Franci , what a change is here ! Is R faline , whom thou didst love so dear , So foon forfaken ? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts , but in their eyes ...
... pray , That thou confent to marry us this day . " Fri. Holy Saint Franci , what a change is here ! Is R faline , whom thou didst love so dear , So foon forfaken ? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts , but in their eyes ...
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againſt becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio call'd Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death Defdemona Desdemona doft doth Duke Emil Enter ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame father fatire feems feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome Fortinbras foul fpeak fpirit Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword gentleman give Hamlet hath heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio houſe huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago loft Lord married Mercutio moft Moor moſt muft muſt myſelf night Nurfe Ophelia Othello paffage Perfon play pleaſe Poet Polonius pray purpoſe Quarto Queen reafon Rodorigo Romeo ſay Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſe villain whofe wife William Shakespeare word yourſelf
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Сторінка 231 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
Сторінка 17 - Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Сторінка 123 - 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 177 - Tis now the very witching time of night When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
Сторінка 185 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this?
Сторінка 221 - I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
Сторінка 160 - As made the things more rich; their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Сторінка 261 - Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself.
Сторінка 31 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Сторінка 26 - Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.