Jahrbuch der Deutschen Shakespeare-Gesellschaft, المجلد 27

الغلاف الأمامي
H. Böhlaus Nachf., 1892

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مقاطع مشهورة

الصفحة 57 - O God ! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
الصفحة 75 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have...
الصفحة 83 - 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.
الصفحة 90 - The slaves are ours.' So do I answer you: The pound of flesh which I demand of him Is dearly bought; 'tis mine, and I will have it.
الصفحة 73 - Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep," the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd 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!
الصفحة 67 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune — often the surfeit of our own behaviour — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon and the stars...
الصفحة 34 - There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
الصفحة 30 - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, . Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
الصفحة 65 - Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
الصفحة 101 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.

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