The works of William Shakespeare, ed. by H. Staunton, Band 4 |
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Seite 204
... can you , if you would ? He's sentenc'd : ' t is too late . LUCIO . [ Aside to ISAB . ] You are too cold . ISAB . Too late ! why , no ; I , that do speak a word , May call it back again . Well believe this , a No ceremony that to great ones ...
... can you , if you would ? He's sentenc'd : ' t is too late . LUCIO . [ Aside to ISAB . ] You are too cold . ISAB . Too late ! why , no ; I , that do speak a word , May call it back again . Well believe this , a No ceremony that to great ones ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Angelo ANNE answer APEM attend bear believe better blood bring brother BUCK Buckingham cardinal cause comes dead death doth doubt DUKE ELIZ Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear folio fool fortune friends GENT give gods grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven highness honour hope hour I'll ISAB Italy keep kind king lady leave live look lord LUCIO madam master mean mind nature never night noble Old text omits once passage peace person play poor POST pray present prince quartos queen RICH Richard SCENE sense SERV soul speak spirit stand strange tell thank thee thing thou thou art thought Timon true unto
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 485 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me ; that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
Seite 488 - O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper ; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Seite 498 - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
Seite 205 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Seite 217 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be, worse than worst, Of those that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine, howling ! — 'tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life,...
Seite 308 - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting : I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Seite 314 - I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Seite 312 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes
Seite 313 - O, my lord, Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord ; The king shall have my service, but my prayers For ever and for ever shall be yours.
Seite 72 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Bibliografische Informationen
| Titel | The works of William Shakespeare, ed. by H. Staunton, Band 4 The works of William Shakespeare, ed. by H. Staunton, William Shakespeare |
| Autor/in | William Shakespeare |
| Herausgeber | Howard Staunton |
| Veröffentlicht | 1873 |
| Original von | Oxford University |
| Digitalisiert | 22. Okt. 2007 |
| Zitat exportieren | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |