Works: Tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry wives of Windsor. Measure for measure. Comedy of errors. Much ado about nothing. Love's labour's lost. A midsummer-night's dream. The merchant of Venice. As you like it. Taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth night, or What you will. Winter's tale. King JohnG. Routledge, 1889 |
From inside the book
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Page 7
... beating in my mind , ) your reason For raising this sea - storm ? Pro . Know thus far forth . By accident most strange , bountiful Fortune , Now my dear lady , hath mine enemies Brought to this shore : and by my prescience I find my ...
... beating in my mind , ) your reason For raising this sea - storm ? Pro . Know thus far forth . By accident most strange , bountiful Fortune , Now my dear lady , hath mine enemies Brought to this shore : and by my prescience I find my ...
Page 17
... beat the surges under him , And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water , Whose enmity he flung aside , and breasted The surge most swoln that met him ; his bold head ' Bove the contentious waves he kept , and oar'd Himself with his ...
... beat the surges under him , And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water , Whose enmity he flung aside , and breasted The surge most swoln that met him ; his bold head ' Bove the contentious waves he kept , and oar'd Himself with his ...
Page 24
... beat him , — Ste . Come , kiss . Trin . but that the poor monster ' s in drink : An abominable monster ! Cal . I'll show thee the best springs ; I'll pluck thee berries ; I'll fish for thee , and get thee wood enough . A plague upon the ...
... beat him , — Ste . Come , kiss . Trin . but that the poor monster ' s in drink : An abominable monster ! Cal . I'll show thee the best springs ; I'll pluck thee berries ; I'll fish for thee , and get thee wood enough . A plague upon the ...
Page 29
... Beat him enough : after a little time , I'll beat him too . Ste . Stand further . - Come , proceed . Cal . Why , as I told thee , ' t is a custom with him I ' the afternoon to sleep : there thou may'st brain him , Having first seiz'd ...
... Beat him enough : after a little time , I'll beat him too . Ste . Stand further . - Come , proceed . Cal . Why , as I told thee , ' t is a custom with him I ' the afternoon to sleep : there thou may'st brain him , Having first seiz'd ...
Page 37
... beating mind . Fer . Mira . Pro . Come with a thought : -I thank thee , Ariel : come . We wish your peace . Enter ... beat my tabor , At which , like unback'd colts , they prick'd their ears , Advanc'd their eyelids , lifted up their ...
... beating mind . Fer . Mira . Pro . Come with a thought : -I thank thee , Ariel : come . We wish your peace . Enter ... beat my tabor , At which , like unback'd colts , they prick'd their ears , Advanc'd their eyelids , lifted up their ...
Common terms and phrases
Angelo art thou Bast Beat Benedick better Biron blood Boyet brother Caius Claud Claudio COSTARD daughter dear death dost thou doth ducats Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faulconbridge fear fool Ford gentle gentleman give grace Gremio hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour husband Illyria Isab John Kath King knave lady Laun Leon Leonato look lord Lucio Lysander madam maid Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress Moth never night pardon Pedro Pompey pray prince prithee Proteus Puck Re-enter Rosalind SCENE servant Shylock signior Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK soul speak Speed swear sweet tell thank thee there's Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue Tranio troth true unto villain What's wife woman word
Popular passages
Page 793 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Page 464 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam. 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.