The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by Pope, Warburton and Dodd are pointed out, together with the author's life; a glossary [&c.]. |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 62.
Strana 7
... moft alone ) , Purfued my humour , not pursuing him ; And gladly fhunn'd , who gladly fled from me . Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen With tears augmenting the fresh morning - dew ; Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep ...
... moft alone ) , Purfued my humour , not pursuing him ; And gladly fhunn'd , who gladly fled from me . Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen With tears augmenting the fresh morning - dew ; Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep ...
Strana 11
... moft whofe merit most shall be : Which on more view of many , mine , being one , May ftand in number , though in reck'ning none . Come , go with me . Go , firrah , trudge about Through fair Verona ; find those perfons out , Whofe names ...
... moft whofe merit most shall be : Which on more view of many , mine , being one , May ftand in number , though in reck'ning none . Come , go with me . Go , firrah , trudge about Through fair Verona ; find those perfons out , Whofe names ...
Strana 70
... Moft miferable hour that time e'er faw In lasting labour of his pilgrimage ! But one , poor one , one poor and loving child , But one thing to rejoice and folace in , And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight .. Nurfe . O woe ! oh ...
... Moft miferable hour that time e'er faw In lasting labour of his pilgrimage ! But one , poor one , one poor and loving child , But one thing to rejoice and folace in , And cruel death hath catch'd it from my fight .. Nurfe . O woe ! oh ...
Strana 82
... moft fufpected ; as the time and place Doth make against me , of this direful murther ; And here I ftand both to impeach and purge Myfelf condemned , and myfelf excus'd . Prince . Then say at once what thou doft know in this . Fri. I ...
... moft fufpected ; as the time and place Doth make against me , of this direful murther ; And here I ftand both to impeach and purge Myfelf condemned , and myfelf excus'd . Prince . Then say at once what thou doft know in this . Fri. I ...
Strana 87
... Moft like : it harrows me with fear and wonder . Ber . It would be spoke to . Mar. Speak to it , Horatio . Hor . What art thou that ufurp'ft this time of night , Together with that fair and warlike form In which the Majefty of buried ...
... Moft like : it harrows me with fear and wonder . Ber . It would be spoke to . Mar. Speak to it , Horatio . Hor . What art thou that ufurp'ft this time of night , Together with that fair and warlike form In which the Majefty of buried ...
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Časté výrazy a frázy
againſt art thou Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death defcribed Defdemona doft doth Duke elfe Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame Farewel father fear feem feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep foliloquy fome forrow Fortinbras foul fpeak fpeech fpirit Friar Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword Gentlemen give Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King Lady Laer Laertes lago Lord Madam marry Mercutio moft moſt muft murther muſt myſelf night Nurfe nurſe Ophelia Othello perfon Polonius pray prifoner Prince Queen Richard III Rodorigo Romeo SCENE ſhall ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſed viii villain whofe wife word yourſelf
Populárne pasáže
Strana 147 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment ; and what judgment Would step from this to this ? Sense, sure, you have.
Strana 133 - No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning.
Strana 27 - 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 105 - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Strana 177 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Strana 29 - Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.
Strana 157 - ... and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain ? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth ! \Exit.
Strana 119 - ... this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Strana 177 - Dost thou come here to whine ? To outface me with leaping in her grave ? Be buried quick with her, and so will I : And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground, Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay, an thou'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou.
Strana 125 - I'll leave you till night; you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Giiildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' ye :—Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and 'peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit...