The Handy-volume Shakspeare, Zväzok 13 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Strana 205
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament , And only herald to the gaudy spring , Within thine own bud buriest thy content , And , tender churl , mak'st waste in niggarding . Pity the world , or else this glutton be , To eat the ...
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament , And only herald to the gaudy spring , Within thine own bud buriest thy content , And , tender churl , mak'st waste in niggarding . Pity the world , or else this glutton be , To eat the ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
arms attend Banquo bear beauty better birds blood break breast breath cheeks cold comes dead dear death deed deep desire dost doth Enter eyes face fair fall false fear fight fire flower foul gentle give grace grief hand hast hate hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hope hour keep kind king kiss Lady leave lies light lips live look lord love's Lucrece lust Macb Macbeth Macd means mind murder nature never night once pity poor praise quoth rest Rosse round shame sight sleep sometime sorrow soul speak stand strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought thyself tongue true truth weep wind Witch worth wound youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 219 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Strana 19 - 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 16 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal* thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it...
Strana 241 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Strana 49 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere human statute purged the gentle weal ; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear ; the times have been, That when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end : but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools : this is more strange Than such a murder is.
Strana 308 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields. A honey tongue, a heart of gall Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Strana 220 - I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's...
Strana 15 - Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear ; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.— Enter an Attendant.
Strana 16 - The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry "Hold, hold!
Strana 219 - When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate...
Bibliografické informácie
| Názov | The Handy-volume Shakspeare, Zväzok 13 The Handy-volume Shakspeare, William Shakespeare |
| Autor | William Shakespeare |
| Vydavateľ | Bradbury, Agnew, and Company, 1867 |
| Zdroj originálu: | Harvardská univerzita |
| Digitalizované | 25. feb. 2008 |
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