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affection Angelo answer appeared arrived asked began Bertram brother brought called cause child Claudio court daughter dead dear death desired duke entered eyes fair faithful father fear followed fortune friar gave gentle give given grief Hamlet hand hear heard heart Helena Hermione honor hope husband Imogen Isabel Julia kind king knew lady leave Leontes letter lived look lord lost lover maid manner Marina marriage married master means mind mother never night noble once ordered Orlando Othello passed Paulina Perdita Pericles poor present prince prison promised Protheus queen replied returned rich ring Romeo saying seemed seen sent servant ship showed sister soon speak spirit story strange sweet taken talking tell thing thought told took true turn Valentine Viola wife wished wonder young youth
Сторінка 158 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Hark! now I hear them, — ding-dong, bell.
Сторінка 205 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby ; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby : Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night, with lullaby.
Сторінка 260 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Сторінка 222 - O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Сторінка 256 - 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.
Сторінка 89 - Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep,' the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave* of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast,— Lady M, What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried' Sleep no more !' to all the house ' Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Сторінка 96 - With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life , which must not yield To one of woman born.
Сторінка 37 - Then they for sudden joy did weep, And I for sorrow sung, That such a king should play bo-peep, And go the fools among.