Works: Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. Comedy of errors. Much ado about nothing. Love's labour's lost. A midsummer-night's dream. The merchant of Venice. As you like it. Taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night, or What you will. Winter's tale. King JohnG. Routledge, 1889 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 81
Página 27
... husband then ? Fer . Ay , with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom : here's my hand . Mira . And mine , with my heart in ' t : And now farewell , Till half an hour hence . Fer . A thousand ! thousand ! [ Exeunt FER , and MIR ...
... husband then ? Fer . Ay , with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom : here's my hand . Mira . And mine , with my heart in ' t : And now farewell , Till half an hour hence . Fer . A thousand ! thousand ! [ Exeunt FER , and MIR ...
Página 44
... husband find at Tunis ; And Ferdinand , her brother , found a wife Where he himself was lost ; Prospero , his dukedom , In a poor isle ; and all of us , When no man was his own . Alon ourselves , Give me your hands : [ To FER . and MIR ...
... husband find at Tunis ; And Ferdinand , her brother , found a wife Where he himself was lost ; Prospero , his dukedom , In a poor isle ; and all of us , When no man was his own . Alon ourselves , Give me your hands : [ To FER . and MIR ...
Página 100
... husband's purse ; he hath a legion of angels . Pist . As many devils entertain ; and , " To her boy , " say I. Nym . The humour rises ; it is good : humour me the angels . Fal . I have writ me here a letter to her : and here another to ...
... husband's purse ; he hath a legion of angels . Pist . As many devils entertain ; and , " To her boy , " say I. Nym . The humour rises ; it is good : humour me the angels . Fal . I have writ me here a letter to her : and here another to ...
Página 106
... husband saw this letter ! it would give eternal food to his jealousy . Mrs. Page . Why , look , where he comes ; and my good man too ; he's far from jealousy as I am from giving him cause ; and that , I hope , is an unmeasurable ...
... husband saw this letter ! it would give eternal food to his jealousy . Mrs. Page . Why , look , where he comes ; and my good man too ; he's far from jealousy as I am from giving him cause ; and that , I hope , is an unmeasurable ...
Página 110
... husband will be absence from his house between ten and eleven . Fal . Ten and eleven ? Quick . Ay , forsooth ; and then you may come and see the picture , she says , that you wot of ; master Ford , her husband , will be from home . Alas ...
... husband will be absence from his house between ten and eleven . Fal . Ten and eleven ? Quick . Ay , forsooth ; and then you may come and see the picture , she says , that you wot of ; master Ford , her husband , will be from home . Alas ...
Términos y frases comunes
Angelo art thou Bast Beat Benedick better Biron blood Boyet brother Caius Claud Claudio COSTARD daughter dear death dost thou doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faulconbridge fear fool Ford gentle gentleman give grace Gremio hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour husband Illyria Isab John Kath King knave lady Laun Leon Leonato look lord Lucio Lysander madam maid Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress Moth never night pardon Pedro Pompey pray prince prithee Proteus Puck Re-enter Rosalind SCENE servant Shylock signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK soul speak Speed swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue Tranio troth true unto villain What's wife woman word
Pasajes populares
Página 793 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Página 464 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam. The seasons' difference, — as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body. Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 'This is no flattery' — these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.