Every Day with ShakespeareF.W. Haigh, 1912 - 118 páginas |
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Página 23
... sleep . -Tempest . The Commissioners appointed to choose the most beautiful short passage in the Plays , to be carved on the Poet's monument in Westminster Abbey , selected it from these lines . FEBRUARY 26 . Whip me , ye devils , From ...
... sleep . -Tempest . The Commissioners appointed to choose the most beautiful short passage in the Plays , to be carved on the Poet's monument in Westminster Abbey , selected it from these lines . FEBRUARY 26 . Whip me , ye devils , From ...
Página 30
... sleep . -I Henry IV . Musical metaphors sprinkle almost every page of the Plays . MARCH 15 . --the cause why music was ordained- Was it not to refresh the mind of man After his studies or his usual pain ? -Taming of the Shrew . 44 B. C. ...
... sleep . -I Henry IV . Musical metaphors sprinkle almost every page of the Plays . MARCH 15 . --the cause why music was ordained- Was it not to refresh the mind of man After his studies or his usual pain ? -Taming of the Shrew . 44 B. C. ...
Página 32
... sleep , Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness , Making such difference twixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night The hour before the heavenly harnessed team Begins his golden progress in the East . I Henry IV ...
... sleep , Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness , Making such difference twixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night The hour before the heavenly harnessed team Begins his golden progress in the East . I Henry IV ...
Página 33
... 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 . -Merchant of Venice . " Our ears are educated to music by his rhythm . He ...
... 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 . -Merchant of Venice . " Our ears are educated to music by his rhythm . He ...
Página 35
... sleep . -Midsummer Night's Dream . The Opera was invented in Italy about 1600. First Opera in London , 1692 . MARCH 31 . The man that hath no music in himself , Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds , Is fit for treasons ...
... sleep . -Midsummer Night's Dream . The Opera was invented in Italy about 1600. First Opera in London , 1692 . MARCH 31 . The man that hath no music in himself , Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds , Is fit for treasons ...
Termos e frases comuns
actors All's Antony & Cleopatra APRIL AUGUST beautiful born Boydell Brutus Burbage Charles Comedy of Errors Coriolanus Cowden-Clarke Cymbeline Death DECEMBER died doth dramatic English stage eyes FEBRUARY fortunes friends Garrick gentle Gentlemen of Verona grace greatest green Hamlet happy hath heart heaven Henry Irving Henry IV Henry VIII hither honour JANUARY Julius Caesar JULY JUNE King John King Lear lady lines London Love's Labour's Lost Macbeth MARCH Measure for Measure Merchant of Venice merry Midsummer Night's Dream mind never NOVEMBER o'er OCTOBER Othello painter painting peare peare's Pericles Plays Poet Poet's Richard Richard II Romeo & Juliet scene SEPTEMBER Shakes Shakespeare Shakespeare's day Shrew Siddons sing sleep song Sonnet soul speak spirit Stratford-on-Avon Taming Tempest Theatre thee things thou art Timon of Athens Titus Andronicus tongue Troilus & Cressida Twelfth Night valiant William wind Winter's Tale woman wrote
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 32 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing : To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung : as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Página 23 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Página 18 - I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news ; Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, Standing on slippers, — which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet...
Página 5 - God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! lago.
Página 3 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Página 75 - Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull.
Página 55 - Subtle as Sphinx ; as sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Página 29 - 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.
Página 20 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver ; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Página 12 - Methought I heard a voice cry, 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.