Midsummer-night's dream. Love's labor's lost. Merchant of Venice. As y@u like it. All's well that ends well. Taming of the shrew

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Charles C. Little and James Brown, 1844

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第18页 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
第181页 - Shylock, we would have moneys :' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. What should I say to you ? Should I not say, ' Hath a dog money ? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?
第206页 - To bait fish withal : if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million ; laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies ; and what's his reason ? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?
第273页 - 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.
第239页 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise ; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.
第55页 - I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
第213页 - You see me, lord Bassanio, where I stand, Such as I am : though, for myself alone, I would not be ambitious in my wish, To wish myself much better ; yet, for you, I would be trebled twenty times myself : A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times More rich...
第163页 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs...
第251页 - Love in my bosom like a bee, Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast, My kisses are his daily feast; And yet he robs me of my rest: Ah, wanton, will ye?
第127页 - Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil : But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain ; But, -with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.

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