The Works of William Shakespeare: As you like it ; Taming of the shrew ; All's well that ends well ; Twelfth night ; Winter's tale |
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Page 35
I pray you , one of you question yond ' man , If he for gold will give us any food : I faint almost to death , Touch . Holla , you clown ! Ros . Peace , fool : he's not thy kinsman . Cor . Who calls ? Touch . Your betters , sir . Cor .
I pray you , one of you question yond ' man , If he for gold will give us any food : I faint almost to death , Touch . Holla , you clown ! Ros . Peace , fool : he's not thy kinsman . Cor . Who calls ? Touch . Your betters , sir . Cor .
Page 38
Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers . For my sake be comfortable ; hold death awhile at the arm's ? Ducdame , ] Sir Thomas Hanmer altered “ Ducdame ” to Duc ad me , which is probably right ; but duc ad me being harsh , when sung ...
Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers . For my sake be comfortable ; hold death awhile at the arm's ? Ducdame , ] Sir Thomas Hanmer altered “ Ducdame ” to Duc ad me , which is probably right ; but duc ad me being harsh , when sung ...
Page 66
The common executioner , Whose heart th ' accustom'd sight of death makes hard , Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck , But first begs pardon : will you sterner be Than he that dies and lives by bloody dropsło ?
The common executioner , Whose heart th ' accustom'd sight of death makes hard , Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck , But first begs pardon : will you sterner be Than he that dies and lives by bloody dropsło ?
Page 76
I knew what you would prove ; my friends told me as much , and I thought no less : —that flattering tongue of yours won me : — tis but one cast away , and so , —come , death ! Two o'clock is your hour ? Orl . Ay , sweet Rosalind . Ros .
I knew what you would prove ; my friends told me as much , and I thought no less : —that flattering tongue of yours won me : — tis but one cast away , and so , —come , death ! Two o'clock is your hour ? Orl . Ay , sweet Rosalind . Ros .
Page 86
... which together is , abandon the society of this female , or , clown thou perishest ; or , to thy better understanding , diest ; or , to wit , I kill thee , make thee away , translate thy life into death , thy liberty into bondage .
... which together is , abandon the society of this female , or , clown thou perishest ; or , to thy better understanding , diest ; or , to wit , I kill thee , make thee away , translate thy life into death , thy liberty into bondage .
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answer appear Attendants bear better bring brother Clown comes Count court daughter death doth Duke edition Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fear folio fool fortune Gent give hand hast hath hear heart heaven hold honour hope I'll Kath keep kind king lady leave Leon live look lord lost madam Malone marry master means mistress nature never night old copies Parolles passage play poor pray present printed reason Rosalind SCENE seems sense servant serve Shakespeare speak stand stay Steevens sweet tell thank thee thing thou thou art thought Touch true wife woman young youth
Popular passages
Page 27 - The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Page 323 - IF music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it ; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ; — it had a dying fall : O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Page 44 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Page 486 - When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that...
Page 45 - Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot ; Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember
Page 360 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there ! Duke.
Page 199 - Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband : And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And, not obedient to his honest will, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord ? — I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war, where they should kneel for peace ; Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.