Midsummer night's dream. Merchant of Venice. As you like it. Taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night; or, What you willG. Barrie & Son, 1894 |
From inside the book
Page 209
... It was a lover and his lass , With a hey , and a ho , and a hey nonino , That o'er the green corn - field did pass In the spring time , the only pretty ring time , When birds do sing , hey ding a ding , ding : Sweet lovers love the ...
... It was a lover and his lass , With a hey , and a ho , and a hey nonino , That o'er the green corn - field did pass In the spring time , the only pretty ring time , When birds do sing , hey ding a ding , ding : Sweet lovers love the ...
Common terms and phrases
Antonio art thou Baptista Bass Bassanio better Bianca Bion Biondello comes Count daughter dear Demetrius dost doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fool fortune gentle gentleman give Gremio hand hath hear heart heaven Helena Hermia Hippolyta hither honour Hortensio Illyria is't Kate Kath King knave lady Laun Launcelot look lord Lucentio Lysander madam maid Malvolio marry master mistress Nerissa never night Orlando Padua Petruchio PHILOSTRATE pray prithee Puck Pyramus Quin Re-enter ring Rosalind Rousillon Salan SCENE shalt Shylock Signior Sir Toby sirrah speak swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thine thing thou art thou hast Titania Touch Tranio unto What's wife young youth ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 170 - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Page 131 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Page 406 - 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 35 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted ; But yet...
Page 167 - And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, " It is ten o'clock : Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags: '"Tis but an hour ago since it was nine ; And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Page 74 - How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him for he is a Christian ; But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.