The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, Band 7 |
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Seite 29
It is my soul that calls upon my name : How silver - sweet sound lovers ' tongues
by night , Like softest music to attending ears ! Jul . Romeo ! Rom . My sweet ! Jul
. At what o'clock to - morrow Shall I send to thee ? Rom . At the hour of nine .
It is my soul that calls upon my name : How silver - sweet sound lovers ' tongues
by night , Like softest music to attending ears ! Jul . Romeo ! Rom . My sweet ! Jul
. At what o'clock to - morrow Shall I send to thee ? Rom . At the hour of nine .
Seite 38
Had she affections , and warm youthful blood , She'd be as swift in motion as a
ball ; My words would bandy her to my sweet love , And his to me : But old folks ,
many feign as they were dead ; Unweildy , slow , heavy , and pale as lead .
Had she affections , and warm youthful blood , She'd be as swift in motion as a
ball ; My words would bandy her to my sweet love , And his to me : But old folks ,
many feign as they were dead ; Unweildy , slow , heavy , and pale as lead .
Seite 39
I am sorry that thou art not well : Sweet , sweet , sweet nurse , tell me , what says
my love ? Nurse . Your love says like an honest gentleman , And a courteous ,
and a kind , and a handsome , And , I warrant , a virtuous : - Where is your mother
?
I am sorry that thou art not well : Sweet , sweet , sweet nurse , tell me , what says
my love ? Nurse . Your love says like an honest gentleman , And a courteous ,
and a kind , and a handsome , And , I warrant , a virtuous : - Where is your mother
?
Seite 101
Sweets to the sweet : Farewell ! [ Scattering Flowers . I hop'd , thou shouldst have
been my Hamlet's wife ; I thought , thy bride - bed to bave deck'd , sweet maid ,
And not have strew'd thy grave . Laer . 0 , treble woe Fall ten times treble SCENE
...
Sweets to the sweet : Farewell ! [ Scattering Flowers . I hop'd , thou shouldst have
been my Hamlet's wife ; I thought , thy bride - bed to bave deck'd , sweet maid ,
And not have strew'd thy grave . Laer . 0 , treble woe Fall ten times treble SCENE
...
Seite 92
Then murder's out of tune , And sweet revenge grows barsh . Des . O falsely ,
falsely murder'd ! Emil . Alas ! whal cry is that ? Oth . That ! what ? Emil . Out , and
alas ! that was my lady's voice :Help ! help , ho ! help ! -O lady , speak again !
Sweet ...
Then murder's out of tune , And sweet revenge grows barsh . Des . O falsely ,
falsely murder'd ! Emil . Alas ! whal cry is that ? Oth . That ! what ? Emil . Out , and
alas ! that was my lady's voice :Help ! help , ho ! help ! -O lady , speak again !
Sweet ...
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arms Attendants bear blood bring Cassio cause comes daughter dead dear death dost doth draw Duke Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fall Farewell father fear follow fool fortune Gent give gods gone grace Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honest honour I'll Iago keep Kent kind king lady lago Lear leave letter light live look lord madam Marry matter means mind mother nature never night noble Nurse play poor pray prince Queen rest Romeo SCENE Serv sometimes soul speak stand sweet sword tears tell thank thee there's thine thing thou thou art thought true villain wife wind young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 62 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me. You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Seite 68 - The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Seite 44 - O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing...
Seite 52 - Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor : suit the action to the word, the word to the action ; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature...
Seite 8 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within, which passeth show; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Seite 25 - Hear, Nature, hear ! dear goddess, hear ! Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful ! Into her womb convey sterility ! Dry up in her the organs of increase, And from her derogate body never spring A babe to honour her ! If she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that it may live And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her ! Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent...
Seite 38 - I have of late— but wherefore I know not— lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Seite 18 - So, oft it chances in particular men, That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, — wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin, — By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners; that these men, Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace, As infinite as...
Seite 54 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Seite 64 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law...
Bibliografische Informationen
| Titel | The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, Band 7 The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, Charles Whittingham |
| Autor/in | William Shakespeare |
| Verlag | Carpenter and Son, 1814 |
| Original von | New York Public Library |
| Digitalisiert | 4. Jan. 2007 |
| Zitat exportieren | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |