The beauties of Shakespeare, selected from his plays and poems |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 48.
Strana 10
Look what thy soul holds dear , imagine it To lie that way thou go'st , not whence thou com'ft . Surpose the singing birds , musicians ; The grass whereon thou tread'it , the presence floor ; The powers , fair ladies ; and thy steps ...
Look what thy soul holds dear , imagine it To lie that way thou go'st , not whence thou com'ft . Surpose the singing birds , musicians ; The grass whereon thou tread'it , the presence floor ; The powers , fair ladies ; and thy steps ...
Strana 12
BE A UTIFUL Dear lad , believe it ; For they snall yet belie thy happy years , ' That say thou art a man : Diana's lip Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe is , as the maiden's organ , shrill and found ; And all is semblative ...
BE A UTIFUL Dear lad , believe it ; For they snall yet belie thy happy years , ' That say thou art a man : Diana's lip Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe is , as the maiden's organ , shrill and found ; And all is semblative ...
Strana 13
Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear ; Beauty too rich for use , for earth too dear . Romeo and Juliet , A. 1. Sc . 4 . BEDLAM BEGGAR . Whiles I may ' scape , I will preserve myself , and am bethought To take the bafest and the poorest ...
Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear ; Beauty too rich for use , for earth too dear . Romeo and Juliet , A. 1. Sc . 4 . BEDLAM BEGGAR . Whiles I may ' scape , I will preserve myself , and am bethought To take the bafest and the poorest ...
Strana 19
O , my dear father ! Restoration , hang Thy medicine on my lips ; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms that my two sisters Have in thy rev'rence made ! Had you not been their father , these white flakes Had challeng'd pity of ...
O , my dear father ! Restoration , hang Thy medicine on my lips ; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms that my two sisters Have in thy rev'rence made ! Had you not been their father , these white flakes Had challeng'd pity of ...
Strana 42
He smild nie in the face , gave me his hand , And with a feeble gripe , says , Lord , “ Commend my service to my sovereign . " “ Dear , my Se So did he turn , and over Suffolk's neck He 42 The Beauties of Shakspeare .
He smild nie in the face , gave me his hand , And with a feeble gripe , says , Lord , “ Commend my service to my sovereign . " “ Dear , my Se So did he turn , and over Suffolk's neck He 42 The Beauties of Shakspeare .
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The Beauties of Shakespeare: Selected from His Plays and Poems William Shakespeare Úplné zobrazenie - 1783 |
The Beauties of Shakespeare: Selected from His Plays and Poems William Shakespeare Úplné zobrazenie - 1783 |
Časté výrazy a frázy
againſt bear better blood body break breath Brutus Cæfar comes dead dear death deed doth dream Duke ears earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear fire firſt fool fortune foul friends give grace grief Hamlet hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry hold honour hour I'll itſelf keep King Lady lago Lear leave light live look Lord Macb matter means mind moſt muſt myſelf nature never night noble once peace poor Prince reaſon Richard ſay ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould ſleep ſome ſoul ſpeak ſpirit ſtand ſuch ſweet tears tell thee theſe thine thing thoſe thou art thought thouſand tongue true uſe virtue whoſe wife wind young youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 282 - I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Strana 282 - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend...
Strana 149 - I hate him for he is a Christian ; But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
Strana 137 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success : that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come.
Strana 199 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Strana 82 - The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
Strana 54 - Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba ! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
Strana 67 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Strana 89 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Strana 281 - O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.