The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King JohnC. Whittingham, 1826 |
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Side 228
... Julius Cæsar , 1607 : - Thou in my bosom used to pour thy spright . ' 5 Which fate and metaphysical aid , ' & c .; i . e . supernatural aid . We find metaphysics explained things supernatural ' in the old My blood , stop all passage to ...
... Julius Cæsar , 1607 : - Thou in my bosom used to pour thy spright . ' 5 Which fate and metaphysical aid , ' & c .; i . e . supernatural aid . We find metaphysics explained things supernatural ' in the old My blood , stop all passage to ...
Side 307
... Julius Cæsar : - The posture of his blows are yet unknown . ' And from the hundred and twelfth Sonnet of Shakspeare : ï ' In so profound abysm I throw all care Of others ' voices , that my adder's sense To critick and to flatterer ...
... Julius Cæsar : - The posture of his blows are yet unknown . ' And from the hundred and twelfth Sonnet of Shakspeare : ï ' In so profound abysm I throw all care Of others ' voices , that my adder's sense To critick and to flatterer ...
Side 321
... Julius Cæsar : - ' I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself . ' 4 My voice is in my sword . ' Thus Casca , in Julius Cæsar : - Speak , hands , for me . ' 5 The intrenchant air , ' the air which cannot be cut . So in ...
... Julius Cæsar : - ' I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself . ' 4 My voice is in my sword . ' Thus Casca , in Julius Cæsar : - Speak , hands , for me . ' 5 The intrenchant air , ' the air which cannot be cut . So in ...
Side 355
... Julius Cæsar : - ، Here thy hunters stand , Blood hath bought blood , and blows have answer'd blows. Sign'd in thy spoil , and crimson'd in thy lethe . ' 4 Estimated , judged , determined . Shakspeare should have written , ' whose ...
... Julius Cæsar : - ، Here thy hunters stand , Blood hath bought blood , and blows have answer'd blows. Sign'd in thy spoil , and crimson'd in thy lethe . ' 4 Estimated , judged , determined . Shakspeare should have written , ' whose ...
Side 407
... Julius Cæsar , Act i . Sc . 2 , note 15 . 25 Expeditious . 26 The old play of The Troublesome SC . II . 407 KING JOHN .
... Julius Cæsar , Act i . Sc . 2 , note 15 . 25 Expeditious . 26 The old play of The Troublesome SC . II . 407 KING JOHN .
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Antigonus Antipholus Arthur Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear Ben Jonson blood Bohemia breath Camillo CLEOMENES Comedy of Errors Const death deed didst dost doth Dromio Duke Duncan England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France give grief hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione Holinshed honour Hubert husband Julius Cæsar King Henry King Henry IV King John Lady Leon Leontes look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff Malone master means mistress murder night o'er o'the old copy reads old play PANDULPH passage Paul Paulina peace Polixenes pray prince queen Rosse SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shep Sicilia sleep soul speak Steevens swear sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Winter's Tale Witch word
Populære avsnitt
Side 328 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Side 242 - The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still.
Side 436 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Side 398 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Side 75 - Say there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, o'er that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art ~\\ hich does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
Side 230 - The effect, and it. Come to .my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH.
Side 77 - What you do Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Side 273 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end: but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: This is more strange Than such a murder is.
Side 253 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da blessed time ; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
Side 236 - d yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and...