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Angelo answer bear become believe better bring brother cause character CLAUD Claudio comes common death desire doth DUKE Enter ESCAL Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith father faults fear fellow Folios fool friar friends give Grace hand hang hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hope infra ISAB Isabella Italy justice keep kind lady leave live look lord Lucio madam maid Malvolio Mariana Marry Master means Measure mind mistress nature never night Olivia original pardon peace person play poor pray prison Prov Provost reading reason SCENE seems sense Shakespeare Sir Toby sister soul speak stand sweet tell thank thee thing thou art thought to-morrow true turn virtue woman youth
Seite 3 - 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.
Seite 63 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world: or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling: — 'tis too horrible!
Seite 48 - ... 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!
Seite 41 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; Nothing but thunder.
Seite 48 - 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...
Seite 50 - 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.
Seite 41 - O ! it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
Seite 120 - When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day.