The plays and poems of William Shakespeare, ed. by J.P. Collier, Том 8 |
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Сторінка 10
... 'st me angry , I shall strike . • Scandals unjust to soil his better name . ] This line , found in the 4to . 1608 , is omitted in the folio 1664 . Gent . Strike thine own follies , for ' tis ΙΟ [ SC . II . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
... 'st me angry , I shall strike . • Scandals unjust to soil his better name . ] This line , found in the 4to . 1608 , is omitted in the folio 1664 . Gent . Strike thine own follies , for ' tis ΙΟ [ SC . II . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
Сторінка 11
William Shakespeare John Payne Collier. Gent . Strike thine own follies , for ' tis they deserve To be well beaten . We are now in private ; There's none but thou and I. Thou art fond and peevish , An unclean rioter : thy lands and ...
William Shakespeare John Payne Collier. Gent . Strike thine own follies , for ' tis they deserve To be well beaten . We are now in private ; There's none but thou and I. Thou art fond and peevish , An unclean rioter : thy lands and ...
Сторінка 12
... thine own bed . [ They fight , and the HUSBAND is hurt . Hus . O ! Gent . Wilt thou yield it yet ? Hus . Sir , sir , I have not done with you . Gent . I hope , nor ne'er shall do . [ Fight again . Hus . Have you got tricks ? Are you in ...
... thine own bed . [ They fight , and the HUSBAND is hurt . Hus . O ! Gent . Wilt thou yield it yet ? Hus . Sir , sir , I have not done with you . Gent . I hope , nor ne'er shall do . [ Fight again . Hus . Have you got tricks ? Are you in ...
Сторінка 26
... Could not have acted more remorseless deeds In their relentless natures , than these of thine . Was this the answer I long waited on , The satisfaction for thy prison'd brother ? Hus . Why 26 [ SC . VIII . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
... Could not have acted more remorseless deeds In their relentless natures , than these of thine . Was this the answer I long waited on , The satisfaction for thy prison'd brother ? Hus . Why 26 [ SC . VIII . A Yorkshire Tragedy .
Сторінка 18
... thine ; We'll think of it when leisure shall afford : Meanwhile , do use him well : his father is a king . Tre . Thanks to your majesty : his usage shall be such As he thereat shall think no cause to grutch . [ Exit TREM . King . Then ...
... thine ; We'll think of it when leisure shall afford : Meanwhile , do use him well : his father is a king . Tre . Thanks to your majesty : his usage shall be such As he thereat shall think no cause to grutch . [ Exit TREM . King . Then ...
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Amadine answer arms bear beauty better blood breast breath cause Caverley cheeks child comes dead dear death deeds delight desire dost doth Enter eyes face fair fall false father fear fire foul gentle give grace grief hand hast hate hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hope hour husband I'll keep kill kind king kiss leave lies light lips live look lord love's Lucrece master mind Mouse never night once pity pleasure poor praise quoth rest Segasto shame shepherd sight sometime sorrow soul speak stand sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thou shalt thought thyself tongue true truth unto wife wilt woods worth wound wrong 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.