The dramatic (poetical) works of William Shakspeare; illustr., embracing a life of the poet and notes, Zväzok 1 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 19.
Strana 10
... Mira . If by your art , my dearest father , you have Put the wild waters in this roar , allay them : The sky , it seems , would pour down stinking pitch , But that the sea , mounting to the welkin's cheek , Dashes the fire out . O , I ...
... Mira . If by your art , my dearest father , you have Put the wild waters in this roar , allay them : The sky , it seems , would pour down stinking pitch , But that the sea , mounting to the welkin's cheek , Dashes the fire out . O , I ...
Strana 11
... Mira . Certainly , sir , I can . Pro . By what ? by any other house , or person ? Of any thing the image tell me , that Hath kept with thy remembrance . Mira . ' Tis far off ; And rather like a dream than an assurance That my ...
... Mira . Certainly , sir , I can . Pro . By what ? by any other house , or person ? Of any thing the image tell me , that Hath kept with thy remembrance . Mira . ' Tis far off ; And rather like a dream than an assurance That my ...
Strana 12
... Mira . O , the heavens ! What foul play had we , that we came from thence ? Or blessed was't we did ? Pro . Both , both , my girl : O , my heart bleeds By foul play , as thou say'st , were we heaved thence ; But blessedly holp hither . Mira ...
... Mira . O , the heavens ! What foul play had we , that we came from thence ? Or blessed was't we did ? Pro . Both , both , my girl : O , my heart bleeds By foul play , as thou say'st , were we heaved thence ; But blessedly holp hither . Mira ...
Strana 13
... Mira . Your tale , sir , would cure deafness . Pro . To have no screen between this part he played And him he played it for , he needs will be Absolute Milan : Me , poor man ! —my library Was dukedom large enough ; of temporal royalties ...
... Mira . Your tale , sir , would cure deafness . Pro . To have no screen between this part he played And him he played it for , he needs will be Absolute Milan : Me , poor man ! —my library Was dukedom large enough ; of temporal royalties ...
Strana 14
... Mira . Alack , for pity ! I , not remembering how I cried out then , Will cry it o'er again ; it is a hint , That wrings mine eyes to't . Pro . Hear a little further , And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us ...
... Mira . Alack , for pity ! I , not remembering how I cried out then , Will cry it o'er again ; it is a hint , That wrings mine eyes to't . Pro . Hear a little further , And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us ...
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actor Angelo ARIEL Blackfriars Blackfriars theatre Bridgewater House brother Burbage Caius Caliban called Claudio daughter death dost doth dramatic Duke Enter Escal Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff father fool gentleman give hand hath hear heart heaven honor Host husband Illyria Isab James Burbage Julia king lady Laun letter lord Lord Ellesmere Lucio madam Malone Malvolio Marry master Brook master doctor Mira mistress Ford never night Pist play Poet pray Prospero Proteus Quick Re-enter Richard Burbage SCENE servant Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shal Silvia SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby Slen speak Speed Stratford Stratford upon Avon Susanna Hall sweet tell theatre thee there's thou art thou hast Thurio Trin Valentine wife William Shakspeare Windsor woman word
Populárne pasáže
Strana 45 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Strana 246 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Strana 63 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back ; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms...
Strana 343 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Strana 435 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Strana 63 - gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Strana 64 - But this rough magic I here abjure ; and, when I have required Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff.
Strana 58 - Our revels now are ended... These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air, And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep..
Strana 63 - twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt - the strong-based promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth By my so potent art.
Strana xxxiii - His first defect is that to which may be imputed most of the evil in books or in men. He sacrifices virtue to convenience, and is so much more careful to please than to instruct, that he seems to write without any moral purpose. From his writings indeed a system of social duty may be selected...