The plays and poems of William Shakespeare, ed. by J.P. Collier, Том 8 |
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Сторінка 21
... sweet babe : sorrow makes thy mother sleep . It bodes small good when heaviness falls so deep . Hush , pretty boy : thy hopes might have been better : ' Tis lost at dice what ancient honour won . Hard , when the father plays away the ...
... sweet babe : sorrow makes thy mother sleep . It bodes small good when heaviness falls so deep . Hush , pretty boy : thy hopes might have been better : ' Tis lost at dice what ancient honour won . Hard , when the father plays away the ...
Сторінка 22
... sweet husband ! Hus . Filth ! harlot ! Wife . O ! what will you do , dear husband ? Hus . Give me the bastard . Wife . Your own sweet boy ? [ They strive for the Child . Hus . There are too many beggars . Wife . Good my husband ! Hus ...
... sweet husband ! Hus . Filth ! harlot ! Wife . O ! what will you do , dear husband ? Hus . Give me the bastard . Wife . Your own sweet boy ? [ They strive for the Child . Hus . There are too many beggars . Wife . Good my husband ! Hus ...
Сторінка 25
... sweet blood , innocent blood . Murder has took this chamber with full hands , And will not out as long as the house stands . [ Exeunt . SCENE VIII . A High Road . Enter HUSBAND , SC . VII . ] 25 A Yorkshire Tragedy .
... sweet blood , innocent blood . Murder has took this chamber with full hands , And will not out as long as the house stands . [ Exeunt . SCENE VIII . A High Road . Enter HUSBAND , SC . VII . ] 25 A Yorkshire Tragedy .
Сторінка 29
... sweet husband ! my distressed husband , Now in the hands of unrelenting laws , My greatest sorrow , my extremest blessing ! 2 Now my soul bleeds . Hus . How now ! kind to me ? Did I not wound thee ; Left thee for dead ? Wife . Tut ! far ...
... sweet husband ! my distressed husband , Now in the hands of unrelenting laws , My greatest sorrow , my extremest blessing ! 2 Now my soul bleeds . Hus . How now ! kind to me ? Did I not wound thee ; Left thee for dead ? Wife . Tut ! far ...
Сторінка 5
... sweet Bellona's breath . Blush , monster , blush , and post away with shame , That seck'st disturbance of a goddess ' deeds . 5 6 Meaning , of course , the son of the king of Valencia . —WITH EASE : ] " and please " is repeated in the ...
... sweet Bellona's breath . Blush , monster , blush , and post away with shame , That seck'st disturbance of a goddess ' deeds . 5 6 Meaning , of course , the son of the king of Valencia . —WITH EASE : ] " and please " is repeated in the ...
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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.