CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 39
Side 8
... give cause To be suspected of more tenderness Than doth become a man . I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth . My residence in Rome at one Philario's , Who to my father was a friend , to me 95 Known but by letter ...
... give cause To be suspected of more tenderness Than doth become a man . I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth . My residence in Rome at one Philario's , Who to my father was a friend , to me 95 Known but by letter ...
Side 9
... 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 , fairest , As I my poor self did exchange for ...
... 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 , fairest , As I my poor self did exchange for ...
Side 11
... make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice . 155 Nay , let her languish Exeunt [ Cymbeline and Lords ] . A drop of blood a day ; and , being aged , Die of this folly ! Queen . Enter Pisanio . Fie ! you must give Sc . I II Cymbeline.
... make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice . 155 Nay , let her languish Exeunt [ Cymbeline and Lords ] . A drop of blood a day ; and , being aged , Die of this folly ! Queen . Enter Pisanio . Fie ! you must give Sc . I II Cymbeline.
Side 12
William Shakespeare Will David Howe. Queen . Enter Pisanio . Fie ! you must give way . Here is your servant . How now , sir ! What news ? Pis . My lord your son drew on my master . Queen . Pis . No harm , I trust , is done ? Ha ! 159 ...
William Shakespeare Will David Howe. Queen . Enter Pisanio . Fie ! you must give way . Here is your servant . How now , sir ! What news ? Pis . My lord your son drew on my master . Queen . Pis . No harm , I trust , is done ? Ha ! 159 ...
Side 16
... Give him that parting kiss which I had set Betwixt two charming words , comes in my father 35 And like the tyrannous breathing of the north Shakes all our buds from growing . Lady . Enter a Lady . The Queen , madam , Desires your ...
... Give him that parting kiss which I had set Betwixt two charming words , comes in my father 35 And like the tyrannous breathing of the north Shakes all our buds from growing . Lady . Enter a Lady . The Queen , madam , Desires your ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
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...