Othello ; Coriolanus ; Timon of AthensBradbury, Agnew, and Company, 1867 |
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Страница 270
... Apem . Till I be gentle , stay thou for thy good morrow ; When thou art Timon's dog , and these knaves honest . Tim . Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou know'st them not . Apem . Are they not Athenians ? Tim . Yes . Apem . Then I ...
... Apem . Till I be gentle , stay thou for thy good morrow ; When thou art Timon's dog , and these knaves honest . Tim . Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou know'st them not . Apem . Are they not Athenians ? Tim . Yes . Apem . Then I ...
Страница 271
... Apem . Right , if doing nothing be death by the law . Tim . How likest thou this picture , Apemantus ? Apem . The best , for the innocence . Tim . Wrought he not well that painted it ? Apem . He wrought better that made the painter ...
... Apem . Right , if doing nothing be death by the law . Tim . How likest thou this picture , Apemantus ? Apem . The best , for the innocence . Tim . Wrought he not well that painted it ? Apem . He wrought better that made the painter ...
Страница 272
... Apem . Even as Apemantus does now , hate a lord with my heart . Tim . What , thyself ? Apem . Ay . Tim . Wherefore ? Apem . That I had no angry wit to be a lord . -Art not thou a merchant ? Mer . Ay , Apemantus . Apem . Traffic confound ...
... Apem . Even as Apemantus does now , hate a lord with my heart . Tim . What , thyself ? Apem . Ay . Tim . Wherefore ? Apem . That I had no angry wit to be a lord . -Art not thou a merchant ? Mer . Ay , Apemantus . Apem . Traffic confound ...
Страница 273
... Apem . Time to be honest . I Lord . That time serves still . Apem . The most accursed thou that still omitt'st it . 2 Lord . Thou art going to lord Timon's feast . Apem . Ay ! to see meat fill knaves , and wine heat fools . 2 Lord ...
... Apem . Time to be honest . I Lord . That time serves still . Apem . The most accursed thou that still omitt'st it . 2 Lord . Thou art going to lord Timon's feast . Apem . Ay ! to see meat fill knaves , and wine heat fools . 2 Lord ...
Страница 275
... Apem . Ho , ho , confess'd it ! hang'd it , have you not ? Tim . O , Apemantus ! —you are welcome . Apem . No , you shall not make me wel- come : I come to have thee thrust me out of doors . Tim . Fie , thou'rt a churl ; you've got a ...
... Apem . Ho , ho , confess'd it ! hang'd it , have you not ? Tim . O , Apemantus ! —you are welcome . Apem . No , you shall not make me wel- come : I come to have thee thrust me out of doors . Tim . Fie , thou'rt a churl ; you've got a ...
Чести термини и фразе
Alcib Alcibiades Antium Apem Apemantus Athens Aufidius bear beseech blood Brabantio Caius Marcius CAPHIS Cassio Citizens Cominius consul Coriolanus Corioli Cyprus Desdemona do't dost thou doth Duke Emil EMILIA enemy Enter Exeunt Exit eyes farewell fear fellow Flav fool fortune friends gentlemen give gods gold handkerchief hate hath hear heart heaven honest honour Iago is't knave lady Lart lieutenant look lord Timon Lucullus matter Menenius Michael Cassio mistress Moor mother ne'er never noble on't Othello patricians peace PHRYNIA Poet poor pr'ythee pray Re-enter Roderigo Roman Rome SCENE Senators Serv Servant SICINIUS slave soldier soul speak sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast thyself TITUS LARTIUS to-night to't tribunes true trumpet twas Venice villain VIRGILIA voices Volsces Volscian VOLUMNIA what's wife worthy
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Страница 111 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul — Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! — It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Страница 68 - Look, where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Страница 25 - tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens ; to the which our wills are gardeners : so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce ; set hyssop, and weed up thyme ; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many ; either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry ; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.
Страница 68 - O ! now, for ever Farewell the tranquil mind ; farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war...
Страница 19 - I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence And portance in my...
Страница 72 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up.
Страница 61 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
Страница 49 - I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. — O that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! lago.
Страница 111 - I'll not shed her blood ; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light.
Страница 121 - tis a lost fear ; Man but a rush against Othello's breast, And he retires ; — where should Othello go ?— Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench ! Pale as thy smock ! when we shall meet at compt, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it.