The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fuseli, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, a Life of Shakespeare, &c. by Alexander Chalmers, Band 2F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805 |
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Seite 14
... soul : Therefore , good youth , address thy gait unto her ; Be not deny'd access , stand at her doors , And tell them , there thy fixed foot shall grow , Till thou have audience . Vio . Sure , my noble lord , If she be so abandon'd to ...
... soul : Therefore , good youth , address thy gait unto her ; Be not deny'd access , stand at her doors , And tell them , there thy fixed foot shall grow , Till thou have audience . Vio . Sure , my noble lord , If she be so abandon'd to ...
Seite 18
... soul is in hell , madonna . Oli . I know his soul is in heaven , fool . Clo . The more fool you , madonna , to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven . — Take fool , gentlemen . away the Oli . What think you of this fool ...
... soul is in hell , madonna . Oli . I know his soul is in heaven , fool . Clo . The more fool you , madonna , to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven . — Take fool , gentlemen . away the Oli . What think you of this fool ...
Seite 25
... soul within the house ; Write loyal cantons of contemned love , And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; Holla your name to the reverberate hills , And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out , Olivia ! O , you should not rest ...
... soul within the house ; Write loyal cantons of contemned love , And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; Holla your name to the reverberate hills , And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out , Olivia ! O , you should not rest ...
Seite 32
... souls out of one weaver ? 1 shall we do that ? Sir And . An you love me , let's do't : I am dog at a catch . Clo . By ... soul out of a weaver ( the warmest lover of a song ) thrice over ; or , in other words , give him thrice more ...
... souls out of one weaver ? 1 shall we do that ? Sir And . An you love me , let's do't : I am dog at a catch . Clo . By ... soul out of a weaver ( the warmest lover of a song ) thrice over ; or , in other words , give him thrice more ...
Seite 40
... soul . Vio . But , if she cannot love you , sir ? Duke . I cannot be so answer'd . Vio . ' Sooth , but you must . Say , that some lady , as , perhaps , there is , Hath for your love as great a pang of heart As you have for Olivia : you ...
... soul . Vio . But , if she cannot love you , sir ? Duke . I cannot be so answer'd . Vio . ' Sooth , but you must . Say , that some lady , as , perhaps , there is , Hath for your love as great a pang of heart As you have for Olivia : you ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Barnardine bawd Beat Beatrice Bora BORACHIO brother Claud Claudio Clown cousin dear death Demetrius Dogb Don PEDRO dost thou doth Duke Enter Escal Exeunt Exit eyes fair fairy father fear fool friar gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Helena Hermia Hero Hippolyta hither honour Illyria Isab ISABELLA lady Leon Leonato look lord Angelo Lucio Lysander madam maid Malvolio Marg marry master master constable MEASURE FOR MEASURE mistress musick never niece night Oberon Olivia Philostrate play Pompey pray prince Prov Provost Puck Pyramus Quin Re-enter SCENE Shakspeare Sir ANDREW Sir Andrew Ague-cheek sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH sleep soul speak STEEVENS swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thing Thisby thou art thou hast Tita Titania to-morrow tongue troth true What's word youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 326 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Seite 148 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless...
Seite 129 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Seite 239 - Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever ; One foot in sea, and one on shore ; To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny ; Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Seite 102 - Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do; Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Seite 39 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there ! Duke.
Seite 369 - The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen ; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
Seite 5 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Seite 41 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Seite 31 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.