The Works of William Shakespeare: In Nine Volumes, Tập 3

B́a trước
Munroe, Francis & Parker, 1810
0 Bài đánh giá
Google không xác minh bài đánh giá nhưng có kiểm tra để t́m nội dung giả và xoá nội dung đó khi t́m thấy
 

Nội dung mọi người đang nói đến - Viết bài đánh giá

Chúng tôi không t́m thấy bài đánh giá nào ở các vị trí thông thường.

Nội dung

Thuật ngữ và cụm từ thông dụng

Đoạn trích phổ biến

Trang 25 - Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind; a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Trang 23 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me : I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Trang 26 - Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest ; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing : It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one...
Trang 42 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale ! — Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Trang 17 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood ; Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it!
Trang 55 - Say there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. 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.
Trang 46 - Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end: but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: This is more strange Than such a murder is.
Trang 65 - Tis call'd the evil : A most miraculous work in this good king ; Which often, since my here-remain in England, I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven. Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people, All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures ; Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction.
Trang 56 - What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever: when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Trang 21 - He's here in double trust : First, as I am his kinsman and his subject ; Strong both against the deed : then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek...

Thông tin thư mục