The Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night. The winter's taleMacmillan, 1863 |
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Side 16
... Bian . Sister , content you in my discontent . 65 70 75 80 Sir , to your pleasure humbly I subscribe : My books and instruments shall be my company , On them to look and practise by myself . Luc . Hark , Tranio ! thou may'st hear ...
... Bian . Sister , content you in my discontent . 65 70 75 80 Sir , to your pleasure humbly I subscribe : My books and instruments shall be my company , On them to look and practise by myself . Luc . Hark , Tranio ! thou may'st hear ...
Side 32
... Bian . Good sister , wrong me not , nor wrong yourself , To make a bondmaid and a slave of me ; That I disdain : but for these other gawds , Unbind my hands , I'll pull them off myself , Yea , all my raiment , to my petticoat ; Or what ...
... Bian . Good sister , wrong me not , nor wrong yourself , To make a bondmaid and a slave of me ; That I disdain : but for these other gawds , Unbind my hands , I'll pull them off myself , Yea , all my raiment , to my petticoat ; Or what ...
Side 33
... Bian . If you affect him , sister , here I swear I'll plead for you myself , but you shall have him . Kath . O then , belike , you fancy riches more : You will have Gremio to keep you fair . Bian . Is it for him you do envy me so ? Nay ...
... Bian . If you affect him , sister , here I swear I'll plead for you myself , but you shall have him . Kath . O then , belike , you fancy riches more : You will have Gremio to keep you fair . Bian . Is it for him you do envy me so ? Nay ...
Side 48
... Bian . You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune ? That will be never : tune your instrument . Where left we last ? Luc . Here , madam : 15 20 25 ' Hic ibat Simois ; hic est Sigeia tellus ; Bian . Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis ...
... Bian . You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune ? That will be never : tune your instrument . Where left we last ? Luc . Here , madam : 15 20 25 ' Hic ibat Simois ; hic est Sigeia tellus ; Bian . Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis ...
Side 49
... Bian . I must believe my master ; else , I promise you , I should be arguing still upon that doubt : 45 5 ° But let ... Bian . by Pope ( ed . 2 ) . [ Seeing Hor . listen . Capell . 50 . 52 . Luc . ] Pope ( ed . 2 ) . Bian . FfQ . Bian ...
... Bian . I must believe my master ; else , I promise you , I should be arguing still upon that doubt : 45 5 ° But let ... Bian . by Pope ( ed . 2 ) . [ Seeing Hor . listen . Capell . 50 . 52 . Luc . ] Pope ( ed . 2 ) . Bian . FfQ . Bian ...
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
“The” Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1904 |
“The” Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1863 |
The Works of William Shakespeare: The taming of the shrew. All's well that ... William Shakespeare Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1891 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Anon Autolycus Baptista Becket conj Bertram better Bian Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia Camillo Capell conj Cleomenes Collier Collier Count daughter Duke Dyce Enter Exeunt Exit F₁ F₂ father Ff Q Folio fool Gent gentleman give Grant White Gremio Hanmer hast hath hear Heath conj heaven Hermione honour Hortensio Illyria is't Jackson conj Johnson conj Kate Kath Katharina King knave lady Leon lines in Ff lord Lucentio madam Malone conj Malvolio marry master mistress Olivia Padua Parolles Petruchio Pope pray prithee Rann Re-enter Rousillon Rowe Rowe ed SCENE SCENE II servant Shep Sicilia Signior Sir Toby sirrah speak sweet tell thee Theo Theobald conj there's thine thou art Tranio Vincentio Walker conj Warburton wife ΙΟ
Populære avsnitt
Side 96 - Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance commits his body To painful labour both by sea and land, To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; And craves no other tribute at thy hands But love, fair looks and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt.
Side 381 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one!
Side 245 - 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. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter ; What's to come is still unsure : In delay there lies no plenty ; Then come kiss me...
Side 372 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that...
Side 182 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Side 252 - ... 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.
Side 139 - They say, miracles are past; and we -have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.