The Plays, Volumen10Otridge & Rackham, 1824 |
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Página 5
... thou art not quickly moved to strike . Sam . A dog of the house of Montague moves me . Gre . To move , is — to stir ; and to be valiant , is— to stand to it : therefore , if thou art mov'd , thou runn'st away . Sam . A dog of that house ...
... thou art not quickly moved to strike . Sam . A dog of the house of Montague moves me . Gre . To move , is — to stir ; and to be valiant , is— to stand to it : therefore , if thou art mov'd , thou runn'st away . Sam . A dog of that house ...
Página 6
... thou wilt . Gre . They must take it in sense , that feel it . Sam . Me they shall feel , while I am able to stand : and , ' tis known , I am a pretty piece of flesh . Gre . ' Tis well , thou art not fish ; if thou hadst , thou hadst ...
... thou wilt . Gre . They must take it in sense , that feel it . Sam . Me they shall feel , while I am able to stand : and , ' tis known , I am a pretty piece of flesh . Gre . ' Tis well , thou art not fish ; if thou hadst , thou hadst ...
Página 8
William Shakespeare. Enter Montague and Lady Montague . Mon. Thou villain Capulet , -Hold me not , let me go . La . Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe . Enter Prince , with Attendants . Prin . Rebellious subjects , enemies ...
William Shakespeare. Enter Montague and Lady Montague . Mon. Thou villain Capulet , -Hold me not , let me go . La . Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe . Enter Prince , with Attendants . Prin . Rebellious subjects , enemies ...
Página 11
... thou not laugh ? Ben . No , coz , I rather weep . Rom . Good heart , at what ? Ben . At thy good heart's oppression . Rom . Why , such is love's transgression.- Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast ; Which thou wilt propagate to ...
... thou not laugh ? Ben . No , coz , I rather weep . Rom . Good heart , at what ? Ben . At thy good heart's oppression . Rom . Why , such is love's transgression.- Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast ; Which thou wilt propagate to ...
Página 14
... thou some new infection to thy eye , And the rank poison of the old will die . Rom . Your plantain leaf is excellent for that . Ben . For what , I pray thee ? Rom . For your broken shin . Ben . Why , Romeo , art thou mad ? Rom . Not mad ...
... thou some new infection to thy eye , And the rank poison of the old will die . Rom . Your plantain leaf is excellent for that . Ben . For what , I pray thee ? Rom . For your broken shin . Ben . Why , Romeo , art thou mad ? Rom . Not mad ...
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Términos y frases comunes
art thou Benvolio beseech blood Brabantio Capulet Cassio Cyprus daughter dead dear death Desdemona devil dost thou doth Duke Emil Emilia Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Farewell father fear Fortinbras friar Friar Laurence gentlemen give gone grief Guil Guildenstern Hamlet hand handkerchief hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Horatio i'the Iago is't Juliet kill'd King kiss lady Lady Capulet Laer Laertes lago live look lord madam Mantua marry Mercutio Michael Cassio Montague Moor mother murder musick never night noble Nurse o'er Ophelia Othello play Polonius pray Prince Queen Roderigo Romeo Rosencrantz Rosencrantz and Guildenstern SCENE soul speak sweet sword tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast to-night Tybalt Venice villain weep What's wife
Pasajes populares
Página 30 - To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head ? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp ; her eyes in heaven 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 --
Página 34 - Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
Página 129 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine...
Página 159 - The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Página 67 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Página 21 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Página 31 - O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name : Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Página 163 - O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings...
Página 123 - Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Página 174 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.