The Plays and Poems of William Shakespeare: Printed from the Text of J. Payne Collier, with the Life and Portrait of the Poet, 2±ÇTauchnitz, 1843 |
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7 ÆäÀÌÁö
... breath , Even as the waving sedges play with wind . Lord . We'll show thee Io as she was a maid , And how she was beguiled and surpris'd , As lively painted as the deed was done . 3 Serv . Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood ...
... breath , Even as the waving sedges play with wind . Lord . We'll show thee Io as she was a maid , And how she was beguiled and surpris'd , As lively painted as the deed was done . 3 Serv . Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood ...
14 ÆäÀÌÁö
... breath she did perfume the air : Sacred , and sweet , was all I saw in her . Tra . Nay , then , ' t is time to stir him from his trance . I pray , awake , Sir : if you love the maid , Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her Thus it stands ...
... breath she did perfume the air : Sacred , and sweet , was all I saw in her . Tra . Nay , then , ' t is time to stir him from his trance . I pray , awake , Sir : if you love the maid , Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her Thus it stands ...
86 ÆäÀÌÁö
... breathing and exploit . King . It may well serve who are sick What's he comes here ? Enter BERTRAM , LAFFU , and PArolles . 1 Lord . It is the count Rousillon , my good lord , Young Bertram . King . Youth , thou bear'st thy father's ...
... breathing and exploit . King . It may well serve who are sick What's he comes here ? Enter BERTRAM , LAFFU , and PArolles . 1 Lord . It is the count Rousillon , my good lord , Young Bertram . King . Youth , thou bear'st thy father's ...
99 ÆäÀÌÁö
... breath is barr'd . It is not so with him that all things knows , As ' t is with us that square our guess by shows ; But most it is presumption in us , when The help of heaven we count the act of men . Dear Sir , to my endeavours give ...
... breath is barr'd . It is not so with him that all things knows , As ' t is with us that square our guess by shows ; But most it is presumption in us , when The help of heaven we count the act of men . Dear Sir , to my endeavours give ...
137 ÆäÀÌÁö
... breath , now she sings in heaven . Fr. Env . How is this justified ? and Fr. Gent . The stronger part of it by her own letters ; which make her story true , even to the point of her death : her death it- self , which could not be her ...
... breath , now she sings in heaven . Fr. Env . How is this justified ? and Fr. Gent . The stronger part of it by her own letters ; which make her story true , even to the point of her death : her death it- self , which could not be her ...
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art thou Aumerle Baptista Bast Bianca Bion BIONDELLO Bishop of Carlisle blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath Camillo Count daughter dear death doth Duke duke of Hereford Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Farewell father Faulconbridge fear fool France friends Gaunt Gent gentleman give Gremio grief hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour Hortensio Illyria John Kate Kath KATHARINA king knave lady Leon liege look lord Lucentio Madam maid majesty Malvolio marry master mistress never noble Northumberland Padua pardon peace Petruchio pr'ythee pray prince queen Re-enter Rich Rousillon SCENE Servant Shep Sicilia signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH Sirrah soul speak swear sweet tell thee There's thine thou art thou hast tongue Tranio wife
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476 ÆäÀÌÁö - Richard : no man cried , God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head , Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God , for some strong purpose , steel'd The hearts of men , they must perforce have melted , And barbarism itself have pitied him.
288 ÆäÀÌÁö - But nature makes that mean: so, o'er 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.
190 ÆäÀÌÁö - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? We men may say more, swear more ; but indeed Our shows are more than will, for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy ? Vio.
137 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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.
457 ÆäÀÌÁö - My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood, My sceptre for a palmer's walking-staff, My subjects for a pair of carved saints, And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave : Or I'll be buried in the king's highway, Some way of common trade, where subjects...
289 ÆäÀÌÁö - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady Most incident to maids ; bold...