The Works of Shakespeare: the Text Carefully Restored According to the First Editions: Editor's preface; Didication; Commendatory verses; Tempest; Two gentlemen of Verona; Merry wives of Windsor; Twelfth nightJ. Munroe, 1851 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 6-10 von 50
Seite 45
... daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis . Seb . " Twas a sweet marriage , and we prosper well in our return . Adr . Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their queen . 5 i . e . juicy , succulent . " Red • A tint or tinge ...
... daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis . Seb . " Twas a sweet marriage , and we prosper well in our return . Adr . Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their queen . 5 i . e . juicy , succulent . " Red • A tint or tinge ...
Seite 46
... daughter , who is now queen . Ant . And the rarest that e'er came there . Seb . ' Bate , I beseech you , widow Dido . Ant . O ! widow Dido ; ay , widow Dido . Gon . Is not , sir , my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it ? I mean ...
... daughter , who is now queen . Ant . And the rarest that e'er came there . Seb . ' Bate , I beseech you , widow Dido . Ant . O ! widow Dido ; ay , widow Dido . Gon . Is not , sir , my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it ? I mean ...
Seite 47
... daughter's mar- riage ? Alon . You cram these words into mine ears , against The stomach of my sense : ' Would I had never Married my daughter there ! for , coming thence , My son is lost ; and , in my rate , she too , Who is so far ...
... daughter's mar- riage ? Alon . You cram these words into mine ears , against The stomach of my sense : ' Would I had never Married my daughter there ! for , coming thence , My son is lost ; and , in my rate , she too , Who is so far ...
Seite 53
... daughter's queen of Tunis ; So is she heir of Naples ; ' twixt which regions There is some space . Ant . 99 A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out , " How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ? - Keep in Tunis , And let ...
... daughter's queen of Tunis ; So is she heir of Naples ; ' twixt which regions There is some space . Ant . 99 A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out , " How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ? - Keep in Tunis , And let ...
Seite 70
... daughter ; he himself Calls her a nonpareil : I never saw a woman , But only Sycorax my dam , and she ; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax , As great'st does least . Ste . Is it so brave a lass ? 5 i . e . throat or windpipe . 6 Sot here ...
... daughter ; he himself Calls her a nonpareil : I never saw a woman , But only Sycorax my dam , and she ; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax , As great'st does least . Ste . Is it so brave a lass ? 5 i . e . throat or windpipe . 6 Sot here ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ARIEL better Caius Caliban called devil dost doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fairies Falstaff father fool gentle gentlemen Gentlemen of Verona give hath hear heart heaven Henry IV Herne the hunter honour Host HUGH EVANS humour Illyria Julia king knave knight lady Laun Launce lord madam Malvolio Marry master Brook master doctor means Milan mind Mira mistress Ford never Olivia Pist play Poet Poet's pr'ythee pray Prospero Proteus Quick Re-enter SCENE Sebastian servant Shakespeare Shal Silvia Sir Andrew Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH Slen Slender soul speak Speed spirit sweet Sycorax tell Tempest thee there's thing thou art thou hast Thurio Trin Twelfth Night Valentine Verona Windsor woman word
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 104 - tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, Or sent to Naples : Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell ; But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands ', Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please : Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant ; And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev'd by prayer ; Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults....
Seite 92 - gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Seite 331 - If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love.
Seite xxviii - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart • Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Seite 72 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Seite 93 - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
Seite 93 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Seite 92 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war...
Seite 77 - O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i" the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Seite 92 - By moon-shine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms ; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be,) I have be-dimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And...