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
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Página 3
... 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 to know Did never meddle with my thoughts . Pro . ' T is time ...
... 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 to know Did never meddle with my thoughts . Pro . ' T is time ...
Página 9
... thou hast been , Which thou forgett'st . This damn'd witch , Sycorax , For mischiefs manifold , and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing , from Argier , Thou know'st , was banish'd ; for one thing she did They would not take her ...
... thou hast been , Which thou forgett'st . This damn'd witch , Sycorax , For mischiefs manifold , and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing , from Argier , Thou know'st , was banish'd ; for one thing she did They would not take her ...
Página 11
... thou art , with human care ; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell , till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child . Cal . O ho , O ho ! - ' would it had been done ! Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans ...
... thou art , with human care ; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell , till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child . Cal . O ho , O ho ! - ' would it had been done ! Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans ...
Página 19
... art thou waking ? Do you not hear me speak ? I do ; and , surely , It is a sleepy language ; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep : What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose , to be asleep With eyes wide open ; standing ...
... art thou waking ? Do you not hear me speak ? I do ; and , surely , It is a sleepy language ; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep : What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose , to be asleep With eyes wide open ; standing ...
Página 23
... thou wilt anon , I know it by thy trembling : Now Prosper works upon thee . Ste . Come on your ways ; open your ... art very Trinculo , indeed : How camest thou to be the siege of this moon - calf ? Can he vent Trinculos ? Trin . I took ...
... thou wilt anon , I know it by thy trembling : Now Prosper works upon thee . Ste . Come on your ways ; open your ... art very Trinculo , indeed : How camest thou to be the siege of this moon - calf ? Can he vent Trinculos ? Trin . I took ...
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.