The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, Band 8H. Woodfall, 1767 |
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Seite 20
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). I came to talk of . Tell me , daughter Juliet , How ftands your difpofition to be married ? Jul . It is an honour that I dream not of . Nurfe . An honour ? were not I thine only nurse , I'd fay ...
William Shakespeare Mr. Theobald (Lewis). I came to talk of . Tell me , daughter Juliet , How ftands your difpofition to be married ? Jul . It is an honour that I dream not of . Nurfe . An honour ? were not I thine only nurse , I'd fay ...
Seite 26
... tell .. A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear , Such as would please : ' tis gone ; ' tis gone ; ' tis gone ! [ Mufick plays , and they dance . More light , ye knaves , and turn the tables up ; And quench the fire , the room is grown ...
... tell .. A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear , Such as would please : ' tis gone ; ' tis gone ; ' tis gone ! [ Mufick plays , and they dance . More light , ye knaves , and turn the tables up ; And quench the fire , the room is grown ...
Seite 29
... tell you , he , that can lay hold of her , Shall have the chink . Rom . Is the a Capulet ? O dear account ! my life is my foe's debt . Ben . Away , be gone , the sport is at the best . Rom . Ay , fo I fear , the more is my unreft . Cap ...
... tell you , he , that can lay hold of her , Shall have the chink . Rom . Is the a Capulet ? O dear account ! my life is my foe's debt . Ben . Away , be gone , the sport is at the best . Rom . Ay , fo I fear , the more is my unreft . Cap ...
Seite 33
... tell thee who I am : My name , dear faint , is hateful to myself , Because it is an enemy to thee . Had I it written , I would tear the word . Jul . My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering , yet I know the ...
... tell thee who I am : My name , dear faint , is hateful to myself , Because it is an enemy to thee . Had I it written , I would tear the word . Jul . My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's uttering , yet I know the ...
Seite 37
... tell . Fri. SCENE changes to a Monaftery . Enter Friar Lawrence , with a basket . THE [ Exit . ' HE grey - ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night , Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks of light : And darkness flecker'd , like a ...
... tell . Fri. SCENE changes to a Monaftery . Enter Friar Lawrence , with a basket . THE [ Exit . ' HE grey - ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night , Check'ring the eastern clouds with ftreaks of light : And darkness flecker'd , like a ...
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againſt becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio call'd Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death Defdemona Desdemona doft doth Duke Emil Enter ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame father fatire feems feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome Fortinbras foul fpeak fpirit Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword gentleman give Hamlet hath heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio houſe huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago loft Lord married Mercutio moft Moor moſt muft muſt myſelf night Nurfe Ophelia Othello paffage Perfon play pleaſe Poet Polonius pray purpoſe Quarto Queen reafon Rodorigo Romeo ſay Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſe villain whofe wife William Shakespeare word yourſelf
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 231 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
Seite 17 - Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Seite 123 - 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...
Seite 177 - Tis now the very witching time of night When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
Seite 185 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this?
Seite 221 - I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
Seite 160 - As made the things more rich; their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Seite 261 - Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself.
Seite 31 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Seite 26 - 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.