The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Tom 3American book exchange, 1881 |
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Strona 7
... daughter to Capulet . Nurse to Juliet . Citizens of Verona ; several Men and Women , relations to both houses : Maskers , Guards , Watchmen , and Attendants . Chorus . SCENE : Verona : Mantua . PROLOGUE . Two households , both alike in ...
... daughter to Capulet . Nurse to Juliet . Citizens of Verona ; several Men and Women , relations to both houses : Maskers , Guards , Watchmen , and Attendants . Chorus . SCENE : Verona : Mantua . PROLOGUE . Two households , both alike in ...
Strona 16
... daughter ? call her forth to me . Nurse . Now , by my maidenhead , at twelve year old , I bade her come . What , lamb ! what , lady - bird ! God forbid ! Where's this girl ? What , Juliet ! Jul . How now ! who calls ? Nurse . Jul . What ...
... daughter ? call her forth to me . Nurse . Now , by my maidenhead , at twelve year old , I bade her come . What , lamb ! what , lady - bird ! God forbid ! Where's this girl ? What , Juliet ! Jul . How now ! who calls ? Nurse . Jul . What ...
Strona 17
... daughter Juliet , How stands your disposition to be married ? Jul . It is an honour that I dream not of . Nurse An honour ! were not I thine only nurse , I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat . La . Cap . Well , think of ...
... daughter Juliet , How stands your disposition to be married ? Jul . It is an honour that I dream not of . Nurse An honour ! were not I thine only nurse , I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat . La . Cap . Well , think of ...
Strona 32
... daughter of rich Capulet : As mine on hers , so hers is set on mine ; And all combined , save what thou must combine By holy marriage : when and where and how We met , we woo'd and made exchange of vow , I'll tell thee as we pass ; but ...
... daughter of rich Capulet : As mine on hers , so hers is set on mine ; And all combined , save what thou must combine By holy marriage : when and where and how We met , we woo'd and made exchange of vow , I'll tell thee as we pass ; but ...
Strona 40
... daughter , for us both . Jul . As much to him , else is his thanks too much . Rom . Ah , Juliet , if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more To blazon it , then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air ...
... daughter , for us both . Jul . As much to him , else is his thanks too much . Rom . Ah , Juliet , if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more To blazon it , then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air ...
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Alcibiades Antony Apem Apemantus art thou Banquo better blood Brutus Cæsar Casca Cassio Cleo CYMBELINE daughter dead dear death Desdemona doth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes farewell father fear fool fortune friends Gent gentleman give Glou gods grief GUIDERIUS Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Iach Iago is't Kent king knave L's L's lady Laer Laertes Lear live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd madam Mark Antony married master Merry Wives Michael Cassio mistress ne'er never night noble Nurse Othello Pericles Polonius Pompey poor pray prithee queen Re-enter Romeo SCENE sleep soul speak sweet sword tell Temp thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Timon Titinius to-night Tybalt villain What's wilt Wint word
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 298 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer 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...
Strona 310 - 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?
Strona 179 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man That love my friend, and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech To stir men's blood.
Strona 299 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels * bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after...
Strona 388 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely : touch me with noble anger ! And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks !— No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things — What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Strona 290 - I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Strona 303 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Strona 265 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly : these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within which passeth show ; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Strona 251 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Strona 141 - O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in her concave shores?