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 6-10 de 82
Página 44
... gone . Gon . There , sir , stop ; I have inly wept , Or should have spoke ere this . Look down , you gods , And on this couple drop a blessed crown ; For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither ! Alon . I say ...
... gone . Gon . There , sir , stop ; I have inly wept , Or should have spoke ere this . Look down , you gods , And on this couple drop a blessed crown ; For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither ! Alon . I say ...
Página 46
... gone by , Since I came to this isle : And in the morn I'll bring you to your ship , and so to Naples , Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear - beloved solemniz'd ; And thence retire me to my Milan , where Every third ...
... gone by , Since I came to this isle : And in the morn I'll bring you to your ship , and so to Naples , Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear - beloved solemniz'd ; And thence retire me to my Milan , where Every third ...
Página 48
... gone ? Sweet Valentine , adieu ! Think on thy Proteus , when thou , haply , seest Some rare note - worthy object in thy travel : Wish me partaker in thy happiness , When thou dost meet good hap : and in thy danger , If ever danger do ...
... gone ? Sweet Valentine , adieu ! Think on thy Proteus , when thou , haply , seest Some rare note - worthy object in thy travel : Wish me partaker in thy happiness , When thou dost meet good hap : and in thy danger , If ever danger do ...
Página 52
... gone ? Ful . Luc . That you may ruminate . Jul . And yet , I would I had o'erlook d the letter . It were a shame to call her back again , And pray her to a fault for which I chid her . What ' fool is she , that knows I am a maid , And ...
... gone ? Ful . Luc . That you may ruminate . Jul . And yet , I would I had o'erlook d the letter . It were a shame to call her back again , And pray her to a fault for which I chid her . What ' fool is she , that knows I am a maid , And ...
Página 64
... gone with her along ; and I must after , For love , thou know'st , is full of jealousy . Pro . But she loves you ? Val . Ay , and we are betroth'd ; Nay , more , our marriage hour , With all the cunning manner of our flight , Determin'd ...
... gone with her along ; and I must after , For love , thou know'st , is full of jealousy . Pro . But she loves you ? Val . Ay , and we are betroth'd ; Nay , more , our marriage hour , With all the cunning manner of our flight , Determin'd ...
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.