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 87
Página 25
... sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work ; and says such baseness Had ne'er like executor . I forget : But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours ; Most busy least when I do it . Enter MIRANDA , and PROSPERO at a distance ...
... sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work ; and says such baseness Had ne'er like executor . I forget : But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours ; Most busy least when I do it . Enter MIRANDA , and PROSPERO at a distance ...
Página 30
... sweet airs , that give delight and hurt not . Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices , That , if I then had wak'd after long sleep , Will make me sleep again : and then , in dreaming ...
... sweet airs , that give delight and hurt not . Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices , That , if I then had wak'd after long sleep , Will make me sleep again : and then , in dreaming ...
Página 48
... sweet glances of thy honour'd love , I rather would entreat thy company , To see the wonders of the world abroad , Than , living dully sluggardiz'd at home , Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness . But , since thou lov'st , love ...
... sweet glances of thy honour'd love , I rather would entreat thy company , To see the wonders of the world abroad , Than , living dully sluggardiz'd at home , Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness . But , since thou lov'st , love ...
Página 55
... Sweet love ! sweet lines ! sweet life ! Here is her hand , the agent of her heart ; Here is her oath for love , her honour's pawn : O , that our fathers would applaud our loves , To seal our happiness with their consents ! O heavenly ...
... Sweet love ! sweet lines ! sweet life ! Here is her hand , the agent of her heart ; Here is her oath for love , her honour's pawn : O , that our fathers would applaud our loves , To seal our happiness with their consents ! O heavenly ...
Página 61
... sweet lady ; for you gave the fire : sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks , and spends what he borrows , kindly in your company . Thu. Sir , if you spend word for word with me , I shall make your wit bankrupt . Val . I ...
... sweet lady ; for you gave the fire : sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks , and spends what he borrows , kindly in your company . Thu. Sir , if you spend word for word with me , I shall make your wit bankrupt . Val . I ...
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.