CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 15
Side 35
... tender on your lips . Imo . Away ! I do condemn mine ears that have So long attended thee . If thou wert honourable , Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue , not For such an end thou seek'st , as base as strange . Thou wrong'st a ...
... tender on your lips . Imo . Away ! I do condemn mine ears that have So long attended thee . If thou wert honourable , Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue , not For such an end thou seek'st , as base as strange . Thou wrong'st a ...
Side 38
... tender of our present . I will write . 205 Send your trunk to me ; it shall safe be kept , And truly yielded you . You're very welcome . 210 Exeunt . ACT SECOND SCENE I [ Britain . Before Cymbeline's palace 38 Act I Cymbeline.
... tender of our present . I will write . 205 Send your trunk to me ; it shall safe be kept , And truly yielded you . You're very welcome . 210 Exeunt . ACT SECOND SCENE I [ Britain . Before Cymbeline's palace 38 Act I Cymbeline.
Side 46
... denials Increase your services ; so seem as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her , that you in all obey her , 55 55 Save when command to your dismission tends , And therein 46 Act II Cymbeline.
... denials Increase your services ; so seem as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her , that you in all obey her , 55 55 Save when command to your dismission tends , And therein 46 Act II Cymbeline.
Side 75
... tender'st thou that paper to me , with A look untender ? If't be summer news , Smile to't before ; if winterly , thou need'st But keep that countenance still . My husband's hand ! That drug - damn'd Italy hath out - craftied him , 15 ...
... tender'st thou that paper to me , with A look untender ? If't be summer news , Smile to't before ; if winterly , thou need'st But keep that countenance still . My husband's hand ! That drug - damn'd Italy hath out - craftied him , 15 ...
Side 84
... But , my gentle queen , Where is our daughter ? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman , nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day . She looks us like 31 A thing more made of malice than of duty ; 84 Act III Cymbeline.
... But , my gentle queen , Where is our daughter ? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman , nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day . She looks us like 31 A thing more made of malice than of duty ; 84 Act III Cymbeline.
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...