The Dramatic Works of William ShakespeareC. Whittingham, 1826 |
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Сторінка 40
... woman , who preferred a young and beautiful friend of his to him- self . But the story told by Oldys presents something to us of a more tangible nature ; and as it possesses some intrinsic merit as a story , and rests , as to its prin ...
... woman , who preferred a young and beautiful friend of his to him- self . But the story told by Oldys presents something to us of a more tangible nature ; and as it possesses some intrinsic merit as a story , and rests , as to its prin ...
Сторінка 45
... woman , who retains in single blessedness her maiden name of Hart , being at this time ( Nov. 1825 ) its sole surviving representative . For some years she occupied the house of her ancestors , in which Shakspeare is reported to have ...
... woman , who retains in single blessedness her maiden name of Hart , being at this time ( Nov. 1825 ) its sole surviving representative . For some years she occupied the house of her ancestors , in which Shakspeare is reported to have ...
Сторінка 48
... woman , who has endeavoured to blot out every memorial of the great and moral poet from that spot , which his occupation had made classic , and dear to the heart of his country . In the mutability of all human things , and the ...
... woman , who has endeavoured to blot out every memorial of the great and moral poet from that spot , which his occupation had made classic , and dear to the heart of his country . In the mutability of all human things , and the ...
Сторінка 55
... woman's face remember , Save , from my glass , mine own ; nor have I seen More that I may call men , than you , good friend , And my dear father : how features are abroad , I am skill - less of ; but , by my modesty , ( The jewel in my ...
... woman's face remember , Save , from my glass , mine own ; nor have I seen More that I may call men , than you , good friend , And my dear father : how features are abroad , I am skill - less of ; but , by my modesty , ( The jewel in my ...
Сторінка 60
... woman , But only Sycorax my dam , and she ; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax , As great'st does least . Ste . Is it so brave a lass ? Cal . Ay , lord ; she will become thy bed , I warrant , And bring thee forth brave brood . Ste ...
... woman , But only Sycorax my dam , and she ; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax , As great'st does least . Ste . Is it so brave a lass ? Cal . Ay , lord ; she will become thy bed , I warrant , And bring thee forth brave brood . Ste ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
Anne ARIEL Ben Jonson Caius Caliban daugh daughter devil dost doth drama Duke editor Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fairies Falstaff father fool Ford gentleman Gentlemen of Verona give hand hath hear heart heaven honour Host HUGH EVANS Illyria Johnson Julia knave lady Laun letter lord madam Malone Malvolio Marry master Brook master doctor means mind Mira mistress Ford never night Olivia Pist play Poet pr'ythee pray Prospero Proteus Quick SCENE servant Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shal Silvia Sir Andrew SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby Slen Slender soul speak Speed Steevens Stratford Susanna Hall sweet Sycorax tell thee there's thou art thou hast Thurio Trin Twelfth Night unto Valentine Windsor woman word
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 49 - Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o
Сторінка 84 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Сторінка 297 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Сторінка 69 - O, it is monstrous, monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder. That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper : it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Сторінка 102 - Nature's family. Yet must I not give Nature all : thy art My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter, Nature be, His art doth give the fashion. And, that he, Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muse's anvil : turn the same, (And himself with it) that he thinks to frame ; Or for the laurel, he may gain a scorn, For a good poet's made, as well as born. And such wert thou.
Сторінка 159 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired' be. Is she kind as she is fair ? For beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being helped, inhabits there.
Сторінка 336 - 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. 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 ! Duke.
Сторінка 91 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Сторінка 84 - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
Сторінка 102 - Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time!