CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
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Resultater 1-5 af 19
Side 9
... dead . How , how ! another ? You gentle gods , give me but this I have , 115 And cere up my embracements from a next With bonds of death ! [ Putting on the ring . ] Remain , remain thou here While sense can keep it on . And , sweetest ...
... dead . How , how ! another ? You gentle gods , give me but this I have , 115 And cere up my embracements from a next With bonds of death ! [ Putting on the ring . ] Remain , remain thou here While sense can keep it on . And , sweetest ...
Side 20
... dead , or she's outpriz'd by a trifle . 85 Post . You are mistaken . The one may be sold , or given , or if there were wealth enough 90 for the purchase , or merit for the gift ; the other is not a thing for sale , and only the gift of ...
... dead , or she's outpriz'd by a trifle . 85 Post . You are mistaken . The one may be sold , or given , or if there were wealth enough 90 for the purchase , or merit for the gift ; the other is not a thing for sale , and only the gift of ...
Side 80
... dead , and send him Some bloody sign of it ; for ' tis commanded I should do so . You shall be miss'd at court , And that will well confirm it . 125 Why , good fellow , What shall I do the while ? Where bide ? How live ? Or in my life ...
... dead , and send him Some bloody sign of it ; for ' tis commanded I should do so . You shall be miss'd at court , And that will well confirm it . 125 Why , good fellow , What shall I do the while ? Where bide ? How live ? Or in my life ...
Side 88
... dead . O Imogen , Safe mayst thou wander , safe return again ! Clo . Sirrah , is this letter true ? Pis . Sir , as I think . 105 Clo . It is Posthumus ' hand ; I know't . Sirrah , if thou wouldst not be a villain , but do me true ...
... dead . O Imogen , Safe mayst thou wander , safe return again ! Clo . Sirrah , is this letter true ? Pis . Sir , as I think . 105 Clo . It is Posthumus ' hand ; I know't . Sirrah , if thou wouldst not be a villain , but do me true ...
Side 90
... dead body ; and when my lust 145 which , as I say , to vex her I will hath dined , execute in the clothes that she so prais'd , to the court I'll knock her back , foot her home again . She hath despis'd me rejoicingly , and I'll be ...
... dead body ; and when my lust 145 which , as I say , to vex her I will hath dined , execute in the clothes that she so prais'd , to the court I'll knock her back , foot her home again . She hath despis'd me rejoicingly , and I'll be ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
Arviragus Attendants Augustus Cæsar banish'd Belarius beseech blood Britain Britons brother Cadwal Cæsar call'd Cassibelan cave Cloten conj court Cymbeline's palace dead death do't doth Dowden Enter Cymbeline Enter Pisanio Enter Posthumus Exeunt Exit eyes false father fear fessor of English fool Gaol Gaoler garment Gent gentleman gods Guiderius hast hath hear heart heavens Holinshed honour Iach Iachimo is't Julius Cæsar Jupiter King lady leave Leonatus look lord Lud's madam master Milford-Haven mistress mother noble on't Ph.D Philario Philaster play poison'd Polydore Post pray princely prisoner Prithee Professor of Eng Professor of English Queen Re-enter ring Roman Rome SCENE Shakespeare shalt Sici speak stand sword ta'en tender thank thee there's thing thou art true turn'd villain wager What's WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON Wilt Winter's Tale
Populære passager
Side 76 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Side 111 - Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe, and eat ; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Side 71 - What should we speak of When we are old as you ? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December, how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away ? We have seen nothing...
Side 109 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...