The Works of Shakespeare, Band 3J. and P. Knapton, 1752 |
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Seite 13
... honour : So like a courtier , no contempt or bitterness ( 3 ) Were in him ; pride or fharpness , if there were , His equal had awak'd them ; and his honour , Clock to itself , knew the true minute when Exceptions bid him speak ; and at ...
... honour : So like a courtier , no contempt or bitterness ( 3 ) Were in him ; pride or fharpness , if there were , His equal had awak'd them ; and his honour , Clock to itself , knew the true minute when Exceptions bid him speak ; and at ...
Seite 19
... honour'd , name ; No note upon my parents , his all noble . My mafter , my dear lord he is ; and I His fervant live , and will his vaffal die : He must not be my brother . Count . Nor I your mother ? Hel . You are my mother , Madam ...
... honour'd , name ; No note upon my parents , his all noble . My mafter , my dear lord he is ; and I His fervant live , and will his vaffal die : He must not be my brother . Count . Nor I your mother ? Hel . You are my mother , Madam ...
Seite 21
... honour cites a virtuous youth , Did ever in fo true a flame of liking With chaftly , and love dearly , that your Dian Was both herself and love ; O then , give pity To her , whose ftate is fuch , that cannot chuse But lend , and give ...
... honour cites a virtuous youth , Did ever in fo true a flame of liking With chaftly , and love dearly , that your Dian Was both herself and love ; O then , give pity To her , whose ftate is fuch , that cannot chuse But lend , and give ...
Seite 22
... honour But give me leave to try fuccefs , I'd venture The well - loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure , By fuch a day and hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen , thou fhalt have my ...
... honour But give me leave to try fuccefs , I'd venture The well - loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure , By fuch a day and hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen , thou fhalt have my ...
Seite 24
... honour , but to wed it ; when The brave Queftant shrinks , find what you feek , That Fame may cry you loud : I fay ... Honour be bought up , and no sword worn But one to dance with ? by heav'n , I'll fteal away . 1 Lord . There's honour ...
... honour , but to wed it ; when The brave Queftant shrinks , find what you feek , That Fame may cry you loud : I fay ... Honour be bought up , and no sword worn But one to dance with ? by heav'n , I'll fteal away . 1 Lord . There's honour ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
againſt anſwer Antigonus Antipholis blood Bohemia buſineſs Camillo Conft Count defire doth Dromio Duke elfe Enter Ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid father Faulc Faulconbridge fear feems felf fent fervice fhall fhew fhould fince firft firſt fome fool foul fpeak France ftand ftill ftir ftrange fuch fure fwear fweet give hand hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honour houſe Hubert Illyria John King King John knave Lady loft Lord lyes Madam mafter Malvolio Marry Melun miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf night Paffage pleaſe pr'ythee pray prefent purpoſe reaſon ſay SCENE changes ſhall ſhe Shep Sicilia Sir Toby ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thine thoſe thou art thouſand tongue underſtand uſe whofe wife worfe yourſelf
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 246 - Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? Hours, minutes ? noon, midnight ? and all eyes blind With the pin and web,' but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing; The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing.
Seite 376 - 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 ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Seite 133 - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; And to do that well craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
Seite 407 - 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.
Seite 97 - 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.