CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 sider |
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Side 11
... thou vile one ! Sir , It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus . You bred him as my playfellow , and he is A man worth any woman ; overbuys me Almost the sum he pays . 145 What , art thou mad ? Imo . Almost , sir ; heaven restore me ...
... thou vile one ! Sir , It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus . You bred him as my playfellow , and he is A man worth any woman ; overbuys me Almost the sum he pays . 145 What , art thou mad ? Imo . Almost , sir ; heaven restore me ...
Side 26
... thou ? Dost thou think in time She will not quench and let 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 ...
... thou ? Dost thou think in time She will not quench and let 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 ...
Side 50
... thou art besides , thou wert too base To be his groom . Thou wert dignified enough , Even to the point of envy , if ' twere made Comparative for your virtues , to be styl'd 130 The under - hangman of his kingdom , and hated 135 For ...
... thou art besides , thou wert too base To be his groom . Thou wert dignified enough , Even to the point of envy , if ' twere made Comparative for your virtues , to be styl'd 130 The under - hangman of his kingdom , and hated 135 For ...
Side 65
... Thou art welcome , Caius . Thy Cæsar knighted me ; my youth I spent Much under him ; of him I gather'd honour , Which he to seek of me again , perforce , Behoves me keep at utterance . I am perfect 75 That the Pannonians and Dalmatians ...
... Thou art welcome , Caius . Thy Cæsar knighted me ; my youth I spent Much under him ; of him I gather'd honour , Which he to seek of me again , perforce , Behoves me keep at utterance . I am perfect 75 That the Pannonians and Dalmatians ...
Side 66
... thy ear ! What false Italian , As poisonous - tongu'd as handed , hath prevail'd 5 On thy too ready hearing ? Disloyal ? No ! She's punish'd for her truth , and undergoes ... Art thou a fedary for this act , and look'st 66 Act III Cymbeline.
... thy ear ! What false Italian , As poisonous - tongu'd as handed , hath prevail'd 5 On thy too ready hearing ? Disloyal ? No ! She's punish'd for her truth , and undergoes ... Art thou a fedary for this act , and look'st 66 Act III 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...