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 |
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Page 4
... maid : To you your father should be as a god ; One that composed your beauties , yea , and one To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it . Demetrius is a worthy ...
... maid : To you your father should be as a god ; One that composed your beauties , yea , and one To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it . Demetrius is a worthy ...
Page 16
... maid's music . I remember . Puck . Obe . That very time I saw , but thou couldst not , Flying between the cold moon and the earth , Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west , And loosed his love ...
... maid's music . I remember . Puck . Obe . That very time I saw , but thou couldst not , Flying between the cold moon and the earth , Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west , And loosed his love ...
Page 21
... maid , 50 So far be distant ; and , good night , sweet friend : Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end ! Lys . Amen , amen , to that fair prayer , say I ; And then end life when I end loyalty ! 61 Here is my bed : sleep give thee ...
... maid , 50 So far be distant ; and , good night , sweet friend : Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end ! Lys . Amen , amen , to that fair prayer , say I ; And then end life when I end loyalty ! 61 Here is my bed : sleep give thee ...
Page 23
... maid . Things growing are not ripe until their season : So I , being young , till now ripe not to reason ; And touching now the point of human skill , Reason becomes the marshal to my will And leads me to your eyes , where I o'erlook ...
... maid . Things growing are not ripe until their season : So I , being young , till now ripe not to reason ; And touching now the point of human skill , Reason becomes the marshal to my will And leads me to your eyes , where I o'erlook ...
Page 34
... maid's eyes With your derision ! none of noble sort † † Company . Would so offend a virgin and extort 160 A poor soul's patience , all to make you sport . Lys . You are unkind , Demetrius ; be not so ; For you love Hermia ; this you ...
... maid's eyes With your derision ! none of noble sort † † Company . Would so offend a virgin and extort 160 A poor soul's patience , all to make you sport . Lys . You are unkind , Demetrius ; be not so ; For you love Hermia ; this you ...
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.