The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fuseli, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, a Life of Shakespeare, &c. by Alexander Chalmers, Band 3F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 14
Seite 132
... Laun . Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew , my master : The fiend is at mine elbow ; and tempts me , saying to me , Gobbo , Launcelot Gobbo , good Launcelot , or good Gobbo , or good Launcelot Gobbo , use your ...
... Laun . Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew , my master : The fiend is at mine elbow ; and tempts me , saying to me , Gobbo , Launcelot Gobbo , good Launcelot , or good Gobbo , or good Launcelot Gobbo , use your ...
Seite 133
... Laun . [ Aside . ] O heavens , this is my true be- gotten father ! who , being more than sand - blind , high - gravel blind , knows me not : -I will try con- clusions ' with him . Gob . Master young gentleman , I pray you , which is the ...
... Laun . [ Aside . ] O heavens , this is my true be- gotten father ! who , being more than sand - blind , high - gravel blind , knows me not : -I will try con- clusions ' with him . Gob . Master young gentleman , I pray you , which is the ...
Seite 134
... Laun . Do you not know me , father ? Gob . Alack , sir , I am sand - blind , I know you not . Laun . Nay , indeed , if you had your eyes , you might fail of the knowing me : it is a wise father , that knows his own child . Well , old ...
... Laun . Do you not know me , father ? Gob . Alack , sir , I am sand - blind , I know you not . Laun . Nay , indeed , if you had your eyes , you might fail of the knowing me : it is a wise father , that knows his own child . Well , old ...
Seite 135
... Laun . To him , father . Gob . God bless your worship ! Bass . Gramercy ; Would'st thou aught with me ? Gob . Here's my son , sir , a poor boy , Laun . Not a poor boy , sir , but the rich Jew's man ; that would , sir , as my father ...
... Laun . To him , father . Gob . God bless your worship ! Bass . Gramercy ; Would'st thou aught with me ? Gob . Here's my son , sir , a poor boy , Laun . Not a poor boy , sir , but the rich Jew's man ; that would , sir , as my father ...
Seite 136
... Laun . In very brief , the suit is impertinent to myself , as your worship shall know by this honest old man ; and , though I say it , though old man , yet , poor man , my father . Bass . One speak for both ; -What would you ? Laun ...
... Laun . In very brief , the suit is impertinent to myself , as your worship shall know by this honest old man ; and , though I say it , though old man , yet , poor man , my father . Bass . One speak for both ; -What would you ? Laun ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Antonio Armado Bass Bassanio BERTRAM better Biron blood Boyet CELIA Cost Costard Count court daughter dear dost doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fair lady father fear fool forsworn fortune gentle give grace Gratiano hand hast hath hear heart heaven honour Jaques Jessica JOHNSON Kath King knave lady LAFEU Laun Launcelot live look lord Lorenzo lov'd LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST lover madam maid MALONE marry master means MERCHANT OF VENICE mistress Moth musick Navarre Nerissa never oath Orlando Parolles peize Phebe Pompey poor Portia pr'ythee praise pray ring Rosalind Rousillon Salan Salar SCENE Shakspeare shalt Shylock speak STEEVENS swear sweet tell thank thee thine thing thou art thrasonical tongue Touch true Venice wife woman word young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 105 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted...
Seite 231 - Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Seite 249 - With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Seite 249 - 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.
Seite 125 - How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him for he is a Christian : But more, for that, in low simplicity, He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
Seite 127 - Shylock, we would have monies', You say so; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold; monies is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say, Hath a dog money? is it possible, A cur can lend three thousand ducats'?
Seite 188 - Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that : You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house ; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.
Seite 117 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Seite 192 - The moon shines bright: — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.
Seite 245 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.