The Plays of Shakspeare, Volume 14Doubleday & McClure Company, 1897 |
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Results 6-10 of 14
Page 53
... Sir Toby , madam , your kinsman . Oli . Fetch him off , I pray you ; he speaks nothing but madman : fie on him ! [ Ecit MARIA . ] Go you , Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count , I ... Sir TOBY BELCH . Scene 5. ] 53 TWELFTH - NIGHT . 333.
... Sir Toby , madam , your kinsman . Oli . Fetch him off , I pray you ; he speaks nothing but madman : fie on him ! [ Ecit MARIA . ] Go you , Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count , I ... Sir TOBY BELCH . Scene 5. ] 53 TWELFTH - NIGHT . 333.
Page 54
William Shakespeare Henry Morley. 54 TWELFTH - NIGHT . Enter Sir TOBY BELCH . Oli . By mine honour , half drunk . - What is he at the gate , cousin ? Sir To . A gentleman . Oli . A gentleman ! what gentleman ? Sir To . " T is a gentleman ...
William Shakespeare Henry Morley. 54 TWELFTH - NIGHT . Enter Sir TOBY BELCH . Oli . By mine honour , half drunk . - What is he at the gate , cousin ? Sir To . A gentleman . Oli . A gentleman ! what gentleman ? Sir To . " T is a gentleman ...
Page 67
... Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE- CHEEK . Sir To . Approach , Sir Andrew : not to be a - bed after midnight is to be up betimes ; and diluculo surgere , thou knowest , — Sir And . Nay , by my troth , I know not : but I know , to be up ...
... Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE- CHEEK . Sir To . Approach , Sir Andrew : not to be a - bed after midnight is to be up betimes ; and diluculo surgere , thou knowest , — Sir And . Nay , by my troth , I know not : but I know , to be up ...
Page 81
... Sir TOBY BELCH , Sir ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK , and FABIAN . Sir To . Come thy ways , Signior Fabian . Fab . Nay , I'll come : if I lose a scruple of this sport , let me be boiled to death with melancholy . Sir To . Wouldst thou not be glad ...
... Sir TOBY BELCH , Sir ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK , and FABIAN . Sir To . Come thy ways , Signior Fabian . Fab . Nay , I'll come : if I lose a scruple of this sport , let me be boiled to death with melancholy . Sir To . Wouldst thou not be glad ...
Page 93
... Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK . Sir To . ' Save you , gentleman . Vio . And you , sir . Sir And . Dieu vous garde , monsieur . Vio . Et vous aussi ; votre serviteur . Sir And . I hope , sir , you are ; and I am yours . Six ...
... Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK . Sir To . ' Save you , gentleman . Vio . And you , sir . Sir And . Dieu vous garde , monsieur . Vio . Et vous aussi ; votre serviteur . Sir And . I hope , sir , you are ; and I am yours . Six ...
Common terms and phrases
Antigonus Apolonius AUTOLYCUS beauty began Bellaria better beyng Bohemia brother Camillo Capnio Cesario child CLEOMENES Clown daughter dear death Delphos Dorastus dost Duke Egistus Enter Exeunt Exit eyes FABIAN father Fawnia fear FLORIZEL fool fortune Franion gentleman give hand hath haue hear heard heart heavens Hermione honour Illyria Iulina king lady Lelia Leon Leontes look lord madam Malvolio MARIA married matter mind never night noble Olivia oracle Orsino Pandosto Paul Paulina Perdita play Polixenes poor Porrus pray prince queen Re-enter SCENE Sebastian servant Shakespeare Shep shepherd Sicilia Silla Siluio Sir Andrew Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir TOBY BELCH Sir Topas sorrow speak swear sweet tell thee there's thou art thou hast thought TWELFTH-NIGHT tyme Viola vnto whither wife WINTER'S TALE young
Popular passages
Page 78 - 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.
Page 80 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought ; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Page 19 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Page 60 - Holla your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out, Olivia ! O, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me. Oli. You might do much: What is your parentage?
Page 98 - But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes.
Page 99 - You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race: this is an art Which does mend nature, — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Page 98 - re welcome, sir. — Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. — Reverend sirs, For you there 's rosemary and rue ; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long : Grace and remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing ! Pol.
Page 28 - What years, i' faith ? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; let still the woman take An elder than herself ; so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are.
Page 152 - Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came, alas ! to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.