CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
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Resultater 1-5 af 30
Side 12
... master . Queen . Pis . No harm , I trust , is done ? Ha ! 159 There might have been , But that my master rather play'd than fought And had no help of anger . They were parted By gentlemen at hand . Queen . I am very glad on't . Imo ...
... master . Queen . Pis . No harm , I trust , is done ? Ha ! 159 There might have been , But that my master rather play'd than fought And had no help of anger . They were parted By gentlemen at hand . Queen . I am very glad on't . Imo ...
Side 22
... master of my speeches , and would undergo what's spoken , I swear . Post . Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond till your return . Let there be covenants 155 drawn between's . My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness 22 Act I ...
... master of my speeches , and would undergo what's spoken , I swear . Post . Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond till your return . Let there be covenants 155 drawn between's . My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness 22 Act I ...
Side 24
... master doctor , have you brought those drugs ? madam . Cor . Pleaseth your Highness , ay . Here they are , [ Presenting a small box . ] 6 But I beseech your Grace , without offence , My conscience bids me ask wherefore you have ...
... master doctor , have you brought those drugs ? madam . Cor . Pleaseth your Highness , ay . Here they are , [ Presenting a small box . ] 6 But I beseech your Grace , without offence , My conscience bids me ask wherefore you have ...
Side 25
... upon him Will I first work . He's for his master , And enemy to my son . How now , Pisanio ! Doctor , your service for this time is ended ; 30 Take your own way . Cor . [ Aside . ] I do suspect you Sc . V 25 Cymbeline.
... upon him Will I first work . He's for his master , And enemy to my son . How now , Pisanio ! Doctor , your service for this time is ended ; 30 Take your own way . Cor . [ Aside . ] I do suspect you Sc . V 25 Cymbeline.
Side 26
... instructions enter Where folly now possesses ? Do thou work . When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son , I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then 50 As great as is thy master , - greater , 26 Act I Cymbeline.
... instructions enter Where folly now possesses ? Do thou work . When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son , I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then 50 As great as is thy master , - greater , 26 Act I Cymbeline.
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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...