The Works of Shakespear: In Six Volumes, Zväzok 6
J. and P. Knapton, S. Birt, T. Longman, H. Lintot, C. Hitch, J. Brindley, J. and R. Tonson and S. Draper, R. and B. Wellington, E. New, and B. Dod, 1745
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax anſwer Brabantio Caffio Calchas Capulet Clot Clown Creffida Cymbeline death Desdemona Diomede doft doth emend Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fafe faid falfe fame father feem felf fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome foul fpeak ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword give Guiderius Hamlet hath heart heav'n Hector himſelf honeft honour i'th Iach Iago is't Juliet King Lady Laer Laertes Lord miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt night Nurfe old edit Othello Pandarus Patroclus Pifanio pleaſe Poft Pofthumus Polonius pray Priam purpoſe Queen Rodorigo Romeo SCENE ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe Theob Ther there's theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art Troi Troilus Tybalt Ulyf uſe villain Warb whofe wife word
Strana 518 - But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up...
Strana 327 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within, which passeth show; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Strana 64 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past : which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Strana 383 - 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 494 - O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites ! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others
Strana 268 - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die ! like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.
Strana 252 - Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night — See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Strana 390 - You cannot call it love; for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this?