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Ansaldo Antonio Bass Bassanio Beat Beatrice Benedick better Biron Bora Boyet brother called Claud Claudio Cost Costard cousin D.John D.Pedro daughter dear Demetrius Dogb dost doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fair lady fairy faith father fool gentle Giannetto give grace hand hath hear heart Hermia Hero Hippolyta honour JOHNSON King lady Laun Launcelot Leon Leonato look lord lover Lysander madam maid MALONE marry master master constable means merry mistress Moth Nerissa never night oath Oberon Orla Orlando play poet Pompey Portia pray thee prince Puck Pyramus queen Quin quintain Rosalind Salan SCENE Shakspeare shalt Shylock signior sing speak STEEV STEEVENS swear sweet tell Theseus thing thou art Titania tongue Touch troth true unto Venice WARBURTON word young
Seite 34 - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side'; His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Seite 33 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Seite 23 - That very time I saw (but thou could'st not), Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Seite 70 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Seite 41 - Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? if you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge ? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,...
Seite 22 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath. That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Seite 62 - I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart : If this will not suffice, it must appear That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you Wrest once the law to your authority : To do a great right, do a little wrong ; And curb this cruel devil of his will.
Seite 72 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended ; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.
Seite 65 - Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more But just a pound of flesh. If thou tak'st more Or less than a just pound, be it but so much As makes it light or heavy in the substance Or the division of the twentieth part Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do turn But in the estimation of a hair, Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Seite 20 - About my monies, and my usances : Still have I borne it with a patient shrug; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe: You call me — misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own.