Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John. Richard II. Henry IV, pt. 1Hilliard, Gray,, 1836 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 49
Seite 9
... Leon . We are tougher , brother , Than you can put us to't . Pol . Leon . One sevennight longer . Pol . No longer stay . Very sooth , to - morrow . Leon . We'll part the time between ' s then ; and in that I'll no gainsaying . Pol ...
... Leon . We are tougher , brother , Than you can put us to't . Pol . Leon . One sevennight longer . Pol . No longer stay . Very sooth , to - morrow . Leon . We'll part the time between ' s then ; and in that I'll no gainsaying . Pol ...
Seite 10
... Leon . Well said , Hermione . Her . To tell he longs to see his son , were strong : But let him say so then , and let him go ; But let him swear so , and he shall not stay ; We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.- Yet of your royal ...
... Leon . Well said , Hermione . Her . To tell he longs to see his son , were strong : But let him say so then , and let him go ; But let him swear so , and he shall not stay ; We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.- Yet of your royal ...
Seite 11
... Leon . Is he won yet ? Her . He'll stay , my lord . Leon . At my request he would not . Hermione , my dearest , thou never spok'st To better purpose . 1 i . e . setting aside the original sin , bating the imposition from the offence of ...
... Leon . Is he won yet ? Her . He'll stay , my lord . Leon . At my request he would not . Hermione , my dearest , thou never spok'st To better purpose . 1 i . e . setting aside the original sin , bating the imposition from the offence of ...
Seite 12
... Leon . Why , that was when Three crabbed months had soured themselves to death , Ere I could make thee open thy white hand , And clap ' thyself my love ; then didst thou utter , I am yours forever . Her . It is grace , indeed.— Why , lo ...
... Leon . Why , that was when Three crabbed months had soured themselves to death , Ere I could make thee open thy white hand , And clap ' thyself my love ; then didst thou utter , I am yours forever . Her . It is grace , indeed.— Why , lo ...
Seite 13
... Leon . Why , that's my bawcock . nose ? - I'fecks ? What , hast smutched thy They say , it's a copy out of mine . Come , captain , We must be neat ! not neat , but cleanly , captain ; And yet the steer , the heifer , and the calf , Are ...
... Leon . Why , that's my bawcock . nose ? - I'fecks ? What , hast smutched thy They say , it's a copy out of mine . Come , captain , We must be neat ! not neat , but cleanly , captain ; And yet the steer , the heifer , and the calf , Are ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Antipholus arms art thou Aumerle Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Camillo castle cousin crown death dost doth Dromio duke duke of Hereford earl England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fleance folio friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harry Percy hath hear heart Heaven Holinshed honor Hubert John of Gaunt King John King Richard Lady Leon liege live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty murder never noble Northumberland old copy reads peace Percy play Poins pr'ythee pray prince quarto queen Rich Rosse SCENE Shakspeare shalt shame Shep soul speak stand Steevens sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Witch word York
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 189 - It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way : thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition ; but without The illness should attend it : what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win : thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries " Thus thou must do, if thou have it ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.
Seite 408 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Seite 354 - 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 198 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, 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 marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Seite 195 - Like the poor cat i' the adage? MACB. Prithee, peace. I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. LADY M. What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both. They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender...
Seite 188 - The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Seite 194 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.
Seite 253 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Seite 65 - 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 Which does mend nature, — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Seite 552 - Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound ; But now, two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough : — this earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.