CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
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Resultater 1-5 af 24
Side 3
... d herself She's Unto a poor but worthy gentleman . wedded , Her husband banish'd , she imprison'd ; all Is outward sorrow ; though I think the King Be touch'd at very heart . 3 2. Gent . None but the King ? 1. Gent Cymbeline ...
... d herself She's Unto a poor but worthy gentleman . wedded , Her husband banish'd , she imprison'd ; all Is outward sorrow ; though I think the King Be touch'd at very heart . 3 2. Gent . None but the King ? 1. Gent Cymbeline ...
Side 9
... poor self did exchange for you , To your so infinite loss , so in our trifles I still win of you ; for my sake wear this . It is a manacle of love ; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner . 120 [ Putting a bracelet upon her arm . ] O ...
... poor self did exchange for you , To your so infinite loss , so in our trifles I still win of you ; for my sake wear this . It is a manacle of love ; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner . 120 [ Putting a bracelet upon her arm . ] O ...
Side 18
... poor kindness . I was glad I did atone my countryman and you . It had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then 40 45 each bore , upon importance of so slight and 18 Act I Cymbeline.
... poor kindness . I was glad I did atone my countryman and you . It had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then 40 45 each bore , upon importance of so slight and 18 Act I Cymbeline.
Side 41
... poor princess , Thou divine Imogen , what thou endur'st , Betwixt a father by thy step - dame govern'd , A mother hourly coining plots , a wooer More hateful than the foul expulsion is 65 Of thy dear husband ! Then that horrid act Of ...
... poor princess , Thou divine Imogen , what thou endur'st , Betwixt a father by thy step - dame govern'd , A mother hourly coining plots , a wooer More hateful than the foul expulsion is 65 Of thy dear husband ! Then that horrid act Of ...
Side 49
... poor of thanks And scarce can spare them . Still , I swear I love you . Imo . If you but said so , ' twere as deep with me . If you swear still , your recompense is still That I regard it not . Clo . This is no answer . 96 Imo . But ...
... poor of thanks And scarce can spare them . Still , I swear I love you . Imo . If you but said so , ' twere as deep with me . If you swear still , your recompense is still That I regard it not . Clo . This is no answer . 96 Imo . But ...
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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...