A Concordance to Shakespeare: Suited to All the Editions, in which the Distinguished and Parallel Passages in the Plays of that Justly Admired Writer are Methodically Arranged. To which are Added, Three Hundred Notes and Illustrations, Entirely NewG.G.J. and J. Robinson, 1787 - 470 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 26.
Strana 7
... some speed Of his return ; he answer'd - Do not fo , And even there , his eye being big with tears , And with affection wond'rous fenfible He wrung Baffanio's hand , and fo they parted . Merchant of Venice , A. 2 , S. 8 . What he hath ...
... some speed Of his return ; he answer'd - Do not fo , And even there , his eye being big with tears , And with affection wond'rous fenfible He wrung Baffanio's hand , and fo they parted . Merchant of Venice , A. 2 , S. 8 . What he hath ...
Strana 16
... Some vanity of mine art I would I had beftow'd that time in the tongues , that I have in fencing , dancing , and bear - bating ; O , had I but followed the arts ! Twelfth Night , A. 1. S. 3 . Navarre Navarre shall be the wonder of the ...
... Some vanity of mine art I would I had beftow'd that time in the tongues , that I have in fencing , dancing , and bear - bating ; O , had I but followed the arts ! Twelfth Night , A. 1. S. 3 . Navarre Navarre shall be the wonder of the ...
Strana 33
... Some certain edicts , and fome ftrait decrees , That lie too heavy on the commonwealth . Henry IV . P. 1 , A. 4 , S. 3 . By all the operations of the orbs , From whom we do exift , and cease to be ; Here I disclaim all my paternal care ...
... Some certain edicts , and fome ftrait decrees , That lie too heavy on the commonwealth . Henry IV . P. 1 , A. 4 , S. 3 . By all the operations of the orbs , From whom we do exift , and cease to be ; Here I disclaim all my paternal care ...
Strana 47
... Some fay , that ravens fofter forlorn children , The whilft their own birds famifh in their nefts : O , be to me , though thy hard heart fay no , Nothing Nothing fo kind , but fomething pitiful ! Titus , CHI CHI ( 47 )
... Some fay , that ravens fofter forlorn children , The whilft their own birds famifh in their nefts : O , be to me , though thy hard heart fay no , Nothing Nothing fo kind , but fomething pitiful ! Titus , CHI CHI ( 47 )
Strana 52
... Some four or five attend him ; All , if you will ; for I myself am beft , When least in company . Twelfth Night , A , 1 , S. 4 . COMPETENCY . For aught I fee , they are as fick , that furfeit with too much , as they that ftarve with ...
... Some four or five attend him ; All , if you will ; for I myself am beft , When least in company . Twelfth Night , A , 1 , S. 4 . COMPETENCY . For aught I fee , they are as fick , that furfeit with too much , as they that ftarve with ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
againſt All's Antony and Cleopatra beſt blood Coriolanus Cymbeline death doft doth expreffion eyes faid fear feems fenfe fhall fhew fhould fignify firſt fleep fome fool forrow foul fpeak fpirit ftand ftill fuch fuppofe furely fweet fword Gentlemen of Verona grief Hamlet hath heart heaven Henry IV Henry V. A. Henry VI Henry VIII himſelf honour itſelf JOHNSON Julius Cæfar King John Lear lord Love's Labour Loft Meafure for Meaſure means Merchant of Venice Midfummer Night's Dream moft moſt muft muſt myſelf noble o'er obferve Othello paffage paffion praiſe prefent reafon Richard Richard II Shakeſpeare ſhall ſhe ſhould read ſpeak ſpeech ſtand ſtate STEEVENS tears Tempeft thee thefe themſelves theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art thouſand Timon of Athens tongue Troilus and Creffida Twelfth Night uſe virtue WARBURTON whofe Whoſe Winter's Tale word
Populárne pasáže
Strana 343 - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid. Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut , Made by the joiner squirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Strana 12 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Strana 67 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and...
Strana 162 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
Strana 298 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ. Yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
Strana 14 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Strana 139 - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; And to do that well craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
Strana 61 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Strana 463 - His nature is too noble for the world : He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth : What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent ; And, being angry, does forget that ever He heard the name of death.
Strana 94 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.