The Plays of William Shakespeare in Eight Volumes: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators; to which are Added Notes by Sam Johnson, Band 3 |
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Seite 22
... hath thrall'd my wounded eye . Enter Biondello . Here comes the rogue . Sirrah , where have you been ? Bion . Where have I been ? nay , how now , where are you ? master , has my fellow Tranio ftoll'n your cloaths , or you ftoll'n ...
... hath thrall'd my wounded eye . Enter Biondello . Here comes the rogue . Sirrah , where have you been ? Bion . Where have I been ? nay , how now , where are you ? master , has my fellow Tranio ftoll'n your cloaths , or you ftoll'n ...
Seite 27
... he'll rail - In his rope - tricks ( I'll tell you what , Sir ) an ' she stand him but a little , he will throw a figure in her face , and fo disfigure her with it , that she shall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat .
... he'll rail - In his rope - tricks ( I'll tell you what , Sir ) an ' she stand him but a little , he will throw a figure in her face , and fo disfigure her with it , that she shall have no more eyes to fee withal than a cat .
Seite 35
I am a gentleman of Verona , Sir , That , hearing of her beauty and her wit , Her affability and bafhful modefty , Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour , Am bold to fhew myfelf a forward guest Within your houfe , to make mine eye ...
I am a gentleman of Verona , Sir , That , hearing of her beauty and her wit , Her affability and bafhful modefty , Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour , Am bold to fhew myfelf a forward guest Within your houfe , to make mine eye ...
Seite 44
Youngling ! thou canst not love fo dear as I , Tra . Grey - beard ! thy love doth freeze . Gre . But thine doth fry ' . Skipper , stand back ; ' tis age that nourisheth . Tra . But youth in ladies ' eyes that flourisheth . Bap .
Youngling ! thou canst not love fo dear as I , Tra . Grey - beard ! thy love doth freeze . Gre . But thine doth fry ' . Skipper , stand back ; ' tis age that nourisheth . Tra . But youth in ladies ' eyes that flourisheth . Bap .
Seite 50
But I have caufe to pry into this pedant , Methinks , he looks as tho ' he was in love : Yet if thy thoughts , Bianca , be fo humble , To caft thy wandring eyes on every Stale ; Seize thee , who lift ; if once I find thee ranging ...
But I have caufe to pry into this pedant , Methinks , he looks as tho ' he was in love : Yet if thy thoughts , Bianca , be fo humble , To caft thy wandring eyes on every Stale ; Seize thee , who lift ; if once I find thee ranging ...
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bear Beat believe Benedick better blood bring brother Cath Changes Claud Claudio comes Count daughter death doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fame father fear feems fellow fenfe fhall fhould fome fool foul fpeak France fuch fweet give hand hath hear heart heav'n Hero hold honour hope I'll Italy John keep King lady leave Leon live look Lord Madam mafter marry mean moft mother muft muſt nature never night peace Pedro play poor pray Prince SCENE Signior tell thank thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thing thou thought tongue true truth WARBURTON wife wrong young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 465 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Seite 93 - Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance commits his body To painful labour both by sea and land...
Seite 457 - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
Seite 499 - 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 456 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Seite 361 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.