ComediesG. Routledge & Sons, 1867 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 95
Seite 4
... nature of the plot and the suitableness of the title found in Meres , states , complainingly , " Why the title was altered , or by whom , I cannot discover , " and when Tieck says , " The poet probably first called this play Love's ...
... nature of the plot and the suitableness of the title found in Meres , states , complainingly , " Why the title was altered , or by whom , I cannot discover , " and when Tieck says , " The poet probably first called this play Love's ...
Seite 5
William Shakespeare Charles Knight. Inferior natures that estimate their labours by a common standard- " that weigh ... nature's truth , Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth . " How delicately , too , doos he make Helena ...
William Shakespeare Charles Knight. Inferior natures that estimate their labours by a common standard- " that weigh ... nature's truth , Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth . " How delicately , too , doos he make Helena ...
Seite 9
... nature and soul of the author . The story of ' Isabella ' is scarcely less fine , and is more affecting in the circumstances and in the catastrophe . Dryden has done justice to the impassioned eloquence of the ' Tancred and Sigismunda ...
... nature and soul of the author . The story of ' Isabella ' is scarcely less fine , and is more affecting in the circumstances and in the catastrophe . Dryden has done justice to the impassioned eloquence of the ' Tancred and Sigismunda ...
Seite 13
... nature im- mortal , and death should have play for lack of work . ' Would , for the king's sake , he were living ! I think it would be the death of the king's disease . a Passage . This use of the word is now little known ; but it is ...
... nature im- mortal , and death should have play for lack of work . ' Would , for the king's sake , he were living ! I think it would be the death of the king's disease . a Passage . This use of the word is now little known ; but it is ...
Seite 14
... nature can scarcely be called good ! " Goodness , " in the high sense in which our poet uses it , can only be " achieved . " But b " To season , " says Malone , " has here a culinary sense ; to preserve by salting . " Upon this , Pye ...
... nature can scarcely be called good ! " Goodness , " in the high sense in which our poet uses it , can only be " achieved . " But b " To season , " says Malone , " has here a culinary sense ; to preserve by salting . " Upon this , Pye ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adam Spencer Angelo Ariel Beat Beatrice Benedick better Bohemia brother Caliban Camillo Claud Claudio Clown comedy Count daughter death Dogb dost doth Duke Enter Escal Exeunt Exit eyes fair father folio fool forest of Arden friar gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hero hither honour ILLUSTRATIONS OF ACT Illyria Isab king knave lady Leon Leonato live look lord Lucio madam maid Malvolio marry master Measure for Measure mistress never night original Orlando passage Pedro play Pompey poor pray prince prithee Prospero Prov queen reading Rosalind SCENE Shakspere Shakspere's signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir TOBY speak spirit Steevens swear sweet Sycorax Tale of Gamelyn tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue Twelfth Night Winter's Tale word youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 412 - I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none ; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ; No occupation ; all men idle, all ; And women too, but innocent and pure ; No sovereignty ; — Seb.
Seite 317 - Well believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does.
Seite 363 - Say, there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, over 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 405 - t ; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o...
Seite 205 - They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Seite 220 - And then the whining schoolboy, 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 435 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets* that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms...
Seite 435 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be) I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the...
Seite 435 - Have wak'd their sleepers ; op'd, and let them forth By my so potent art : But this rough magic I here abjure : and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I '11 break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I '11 drown my book.
Seite 153 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there ! Duke.