The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Volum 6F. C. and J. Rivington, 1821 |
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Pàgina 63
... touching hers , make happy my rude hand . Did my heart love till now ? forswear it , sight ! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night ' . TYB . This , by his voice , should be a Montague : - * Folio , blessed . 7 What lady's that ...
... touching hers , make happy my rude hand . Did my heart love till now ? forswear it , sight ! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night ' . TYB . This , by his voice , should be a Montague : - * Folio , blessed . 7 What lady's that ...
Pàgina 66
... touch with a tender kiss . JUL . Good pilgrim , you do wrong your hand too much , Which mannerly devotion shows in this ; For saints have hands that pilgrims ' hands do touch , And palm to palm is holy palmers ' kiss . ROM . Have not ...
... touch with a tender kiss . JUL . Good pilgrim , you do wrong your hand too much , Which mannerly devotion shows in this ; For saints have hands that pilgrims ' hands do touch , And palm to palm is holy palmers ' kiss . ROM . Have not ...
Pàgina 67
... touching the hair and voice of women ; in King Lear he hinted at somewhat touching noninos ; and lo ! now disserteth he on lip - gallantry ! But ( saith a wag at mine elbow ) on the business of kissing , surely Calista's ques- tion ...
... touching the hair and voice of women ; in King Lear he hinted at somewhat touching noninos ; and lo ! now disserteth he on lip - gallantry ! But ( saith a wag at mine elbow ) on the business of kissing , surely Calista's ques- tion ...
Pàgina 77
... touch that cheek ! JUL . ROM . Ah me ! She speaks : O , speak again , bright angel ! for thou art As glorious to this night , being o'er my head , As is a winged messenger of heaven 9 Be not her maid , ] Be not a votary to the moon , to ...
... touch that cheek ! JUL . ROM . Ah me ! She speaks : O , speak again , bright angel ! for thou art As glorious to this night , being o'er my head , As is a winged messenger of heaven 9 Be not her maid , ] Be not a votary to the moon , to ...
Pàgina 144
... touch the honour of his name ? " Whose deadly foes do yield him due and earned praise , " For though his freedom be bereft , his honour not decays . Why blam'st thou Romeus for slaying of Tybalt ? 66 " Since he is guiltless quite of all ...
... touch the honour of his name ? " Whose deadly foes do yield him due and earned praise , " For though his freedom be bereft , his honour not decays . Why blam'st thou Romeus for slaying of Tybalt ? 66 " Since he is guiltless quite of all ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
agayne Antony and Cleopatra art thou beauty Benvolio better BOSWELL brest called Capulet daughter dead death dost doth DUKE edition editors emendation Enter Exeunt eyes fair father fear fool Fortune Friar fryer give gleek greefe hand hart hath heart heaven honour JOHNSON King Henry kiss lady live lord Love's Labour's Lost lovers lyfe MALONE Mantua married means Mercutio Montague musick mynde night nurce NURSE old copy Orlando Paris passage payne Phebe play poem poet Pope pray prince quarto quintain quoth Rape of Lucrece Romeo Romeus and Juliet Rosalind scene second folio Shakspeare Shakspeare's sorrow speak speech STEEVENS stryfe sweet tears tell thee theyr thing thou art thou hast thought tomb TOUCH Tybalt unto Verona WARBURTON wilt word wyfe youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 380 - 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.
Pàgina 52 - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid : Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Pàgina 83 - Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo ! If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
Pàgina 66 - Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this ; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers
Pàgina 379 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 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.
Pàgina 84 - Do not swear at all ; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee.
Pàgina 411 - With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, 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.
Pàgina 89 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Pàgina 382 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Pàgina 77 - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night.