The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fuseli, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, a Life of Shakespeare, &c. by Alexander Chalmers, 第 5 卷F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805 |
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共有 62 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第5页
... young Arthur's hand , Thy nephew , and right royal sovereign . 1 In my behaviour , ] In my behaviour means , I think , in the words and action that I am now going to use . MALONE . K. John . What follows , if we disallow of KING JOHN. ...
... young Arthur's hand , Thy nephew , and right royal sovereign . 1 In my behaviour , ] In my behaviour means , I think , in the words and action that I am now going to use . MALONE . K. John . What follows , if we disallow of KING JOHN. ...
第23页
... Young Arthur is here represented as not only suffering from the guilt of his grandmother ; but , also , by her , in person , she being made the very instrument of his sufferings . As he was not her immediate , but REMOVED issue - the ...
... Young Arthur is here represented as not only suffering from the guilt of his grandmother ; but , also , by her , in person , she being made the very instrument of his sufferings . As he was not her immediate , but REMOVED issue - the ...
第25页
... young Plantagenet ; Son to the elder brother of this man , And king o'er him , and all that he enjoys : For this down - trodden equity , we tread In warlike march these greens before your town ; Being no further enemy to you , Than the ...
... young Plantagenet ; Son to the elder brother of this man , And king o'er him , and all that he enjoys : For this down - trodden equity , we tread In warlike march these greens before your town ; Being no further enemy to you , Than the ...
第27页
... your gates , And let young Arthur , duke of Bretagne , in ; Who , by the hand of France , this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many KING JOHN . 27.
... your gates , And let young Arthur , duke of Bretagne , in ; Who , by the hand of France , this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many KING JOHN . 27.
第32页
... young Dauphin every way complete : If not complete , O say , he is not she ; And she again wants nothing , to name want , If want it be not , that she is not he : He is the half part of a blessed man , Left to be finished by such a she ...
... young Dauphin every way complete : If not complete , O say , he is not she ; And she again wants nothing , to name want , If want it be not , that she is not he : He is the half part of a blessed man , Left to be finished by such a she ...
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常见术语和短语
arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Const cousin crown dead death doth Duch duke duke of Hereford earl Eastcheap England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear France friends Gaunt give Glend Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven honour horse Host Hotspur Hubert John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King John King Richard Lady Lancaster land liege look lord majesty master never night noble Northumberland peace Percy Pist play Poins pray prince Prince JOHN prince of Wales Queen Rich SCENE Shakspeare Shal Shallow shame sir John sir John Falstaff soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle villain Westmoreland wilt word York
热门引用章节
第387页 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down.
第228页 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. {Exit POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
第163页 - And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings : — How some have been depos'd, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd ; Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd ; All murder'd : — For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court : and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning...
第230页 - Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home ; He was perfumed like a milliner ; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and...
第63页 - Or, What good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; But you, at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an' if you will ; If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you ? Hub.
第102页 - 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.
第315页 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why? Detraction will, not suffer it: — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.
第63页 - I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
第195页 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
第315页 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o