Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
affection Angelo answer Antipholis appeared asked beauty Bertram brother brought called Capulet Cassio cause Cesario Claudio coming countess court daughter dead dear death Desdemona desired Dromio duke entered eyes face fair father fear fortunes friar gave gentle give given grief Hamlet hand hear heard heart Helena honour hope husband Iago Isabel Juliet Katherine kind king knew lady leave letters living look lord manner Marina marriage married master means mind mother Mountague murder never night noble Olivia once ordered Othello pass Pericles person Petruchio poor present prince prison promised queen replied rich ring Romeo seemed seen sent servant ship sister soon speak spirit story strange sweet taken tell thing thought Timon told took true turn Viola wife wished young
Pàgina 96 - O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Pàgina 277 - A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear, No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze; Where, for a monument upon thy bones, And aye-remaining || lamps, the belching whale, And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse, Lying with simple shells...
Pàgina 127 - ... 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.
Pàgina 84 - We must not make a scare-crow of the law, ' Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
Pàgina 123 - twill endure wind and weather. Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy.
Pàgina 127 - 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...
Pàgina 119 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Pàgina 127 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Pàgina 90 - That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom ; Knock there ; and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault ; if it confess A natural guiltiness such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.
Pàgina 119 - And what is her history?" said Orsino. "A blank, my lord," replied Viola: "she never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief.