The plays and poems of William Shakespeare, ed. by J.P. Collier, Том 8 |
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Сторінка 6
... kills me most , When he recounts his losses and false fortunes , The weakness of his state , so much dejected , Not as a man repentant , but half mad . His fortunes cannot answer his expense ; He sits , and sullenly locks up his arms ...
... kills me most , When he recounts his losses and false fortunes , The weakness of his state , so much dejected , Not as a man repentant , but half mad . His fortunes cannot answer his expense ; He sits , and sullenly locks up his arms ...
Сторінка 8
... kill my pleasures ? Fall off to thy friends : Thou and thy bastards beg ; I will not bate A whit in humour . Midnight ! still I love you , And revel in your company . Curb'd in ? Shall it be said in all societies That I broke 8 [ SC ...
... kill my pleasures ? Fall off to thy friends : Thou and thy bastards beg ; I will not bate A whit in humour . Midnight ! still I love you , And revel in your company . Curb'd in ? Shall it be said in all societies That I broke 8 [ SC ...
Сторінка 17
... killed the towardest hope of all our University : wherefore , without repentance and amends , expect ponderous and sudden judgments to fall grievously upon you . Your brother , a man who profited in his divine employments , and might ...
... killed the towardest hope of all our University : wherefore , without repentance and amends , expect ponderous and sudden judgments to fall grievously upon you . Your brother , a man who profited in his divine employments , and might ...
Сторінка 22
... killed , mother ! [ Waking the WIFE . Wife . Ha ! who's that that cried ? O me ! my children Both , both bloody ? bloody ? [ Catching up the youngest . Hus . Strumpet ! let go the boy : let go the beggar . Wife . O , my sweet husband ...
... killed , mother ! [ Waking the WIFE . Wife . Ha ! who's that that cried ? O me ! my children Both , both bloody ? bloody ? [ Catching up the youngest . Hus . Strumpet ! let go the boy : let go the beggar . Wife . O , my sweet husband ...
Сторінка 24
... kill the child at nurse . O ! follow quickly . Mast . I am the readiest : it shall be my charge -blood - HASTY ] Perhaps a misprint for blood - thirsty . # To raise the town upon him . First Ser . 24 [ SC . VII . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
... kill the child at nurse . O ! follow quickly . Mast . I am the readiest : it shall be my charge -blood - HASTY ] Perhaps a misprint for blood - thirsty . # To raise the town upon him . First Ser . 24 [ SC . VII . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
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Adonis Amadine bear beauty beauty's behold bleeding blood breast breath Bremo canst Caverley cheeks Collatine dead dear death deeds delight desire dost thou doth England's Helicon Enter Exeunt Exit face fair false father fear flower foul gentle give grace grief hand hate hath hear heart heaven honour husband kill king king of Aragon KING OF VALENCIA kiss leave lips live look lord love's Love's Labour's Lost Lucrece lust master mistress Mouse Mucedorus ne'er never night old copies Passionate Pilgrim pity pleasure poison'd poor praise Priam proud quoth Segasto Sextus Tarquinius Shakespeare shame shepherd sight sirrah sonnet sorrow soul sweet Tarquin tears tell thee thine eye thing thou art thou dost thou hast thou shalt thou wilt thought thyself Time's tongue Tremelio true unto weep wife words worth wound YORKSHIRE TRAGEDY youth
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Сторінка 202 - When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
Сторінка 175 - Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate. The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting, And for that riches where is my deserving?
Сторінка 16 - d, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide, High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
Сторінка 145 - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face...
Сторінка 163 - As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill. Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave...
Сторінка 184 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have expressed Even such a beauty as you master now.
Сторінка 228 - Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
Сторінка 155 - So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
Сторінка 156 - The one doth shadow of your beauty show, The other as your bounty doth appear; And you in every blessed shape we know.
Сторінка 128 - Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry ? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity ? Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime ; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.