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 80
Página 3
... thee , ( Of thee , my dear one ! thee , my daughter ! ) who Art ignorant of what thou art , nought knowing Of whence I am ; nor that I am more better Than Prospero , master of a full poor cell , And thy no greater father . Mira . More ...
... thee , ( Of thee , my dear one ! thee , my daughter ! ) who Art ignorant of what thou art , nought knowing Of whence I am ; nor that I am more better Than Prospero , master of a full poor cell , And thy no greater father . Mira . More ...
Página 8
... thee worthy service ; Told thee no lies , made thee no mistakings , serv'd Without or grudge , or grumblings : thou didst promise To bate me a full year . Pro . Dost thou forget No. From what a torment I did free thee ? Ari . Pro . Thou ...
... thee worthy service ; Told thee no lies , made thee no mistakings , serv'd Without or grudge , or grumblings : thou didst promise To bate me a full year . Pro . Dost thou forget No. From what a torment I did free thee ? Ari . Pro . Thou ...
Página 9
... thee , By help of her more potent ministers , And in her most unmitigable rage , Into a cloven pine ; within which rift Imprison'd , thou didst painfully remain A dozen years , within which space she died , And left thee there ; where ...
... thee , By help of her more potent ministers , And in her most unmitigable rage , Into a cloven pine ; within which rift Imprison'd , thou didst painfully remain A dozen years , within which space she died , And left thee there ; where ...
Página 10
... thee : Come , thou tortoise ! when ! Fine apparition ! My quaint Ariel , Re - enter ARIEL , like a water - nymph . My lord , it shall be done . Hark in thine ear . Ari . Pro . Thou poisonous slave , got by the devil himself Upon thy ...
... thee : Come , thou tortoise ! when ! Fine apparition ! My quaint Ariel , Re - enter ARIEL , like a water - nymph . My lord , it shall be done . Hark in thine ear . Ari . Pro . Thou poisonous slave , got by the devil himself Upon thy ...
Página 11
... thee , Took pains to make thee speak , taught thee each hour One thing or other ; when thou didst not , savage , Know thine own meaning , but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish , I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them ...
... thee , Took pains to make thee speak , taught thee each hour One thing or other ; when thou didst not , savage , Know thine own meaning , but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish , I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them ...
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.