The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark, Band 8Yale University Press, 1917 - 203 Seiten |
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Seite 8
... nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him , Together with remembrance of ourselves . Therefore our sometime sister , now our queen , The imperial jointress of this war - like state , Have we , as ' twere with a defeated joy , With ...
... nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him , Together with remembrance of ourselves . Therefore our sometime sister , now our queen , The imperial jointress of this war - like state , Have we , as ' twere with a defeated joy , With ...
Seite 11
... nature to eternity . Ham . Ay , madam , it is common . Queen . If it be , Why seems it so particular with thee ? Ham . Seems , madam ! Nay , it is ; I know not ' seems . ' ' Tis not alone my inky cloak , good mother , Nor customary ...
... nature to eternity . Ham . Ay , madam , it is common . Queen . If it be , Why seems it so particular with thee ? Ham . Seems , madam ! Nay , it is ; I know not ' seems . ' ' Tis not alone my inky cloak , good mother , Nor customary ...
Seite 12
... nature , To reason most absurd , whose common theme Is death of fathers , and who still hath cried , From the first corse till he that died to - day , " This must be so . ' We pray you , throw to earth This unprevailing woe , and think ...
... nature , To reason most absurd , whose common theme Is death of fathers , and who still hath cried , From the first corse till he that died to - day , " This must be so . ' We pray you , throw to earth This unprevailing woe , and think ...
Seite 13
... nature Possess it merely . That it should come to this ! But two months dead : nay , not so much , not two : So excellent a king ; that was , to this , Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of ...
... nature Possess it merely . That it should come to this ! But two months dead : nay , not so much , not two : So excellent a king ; that was , to this , Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of ...
Seite 18
... nature , Forward , not permanent , sweet , not lasting , The perfume and suppliance of a minute ; No more . Oph . Laer . No more but so ? Think it no more : For nature , crescent , does not grow alone In thews and bulk ; but , as this ...
... nature , Forward , not permanent , sweet , not lasting , The perfume and suppliance of a minute ; No more . Oph . Laer . No more but so ? Think it no more : For nature , crescent , does not grow alone In thews and bulk ; but , as this ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
actor arms Belle-Forest blood body Cæsar Castle Clown Dane daughter dead dear death Denmark dost doth e'en earth England Enter Hamlet Enter King Enter Polonius Exeunt Rosencrantz Exit eyes faith Farewell father fear foil Folio follow Fortinbras friends galled gentleman Gertrude Ghost give good-night grace grief groundlings Guil hast hath head hear heart heaven Hecuba hold honour Horatio Jephthah Julius Cæsar lady Laer Laertes leave look Lord Hamlet madness majesty Marcellus matter means mother murder nature night noble Norway o'er Ophelia Osric passion Pelion play players poison'd Polonius pray Priam Pyrrhus Quarto Queen revenge Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Saint Patrick Scene Shakespeare sleep soul Spanish Tragedie speak speech spirit sweet sword tell thee There's thine thing Thomas Kyd thou thoughts tongue twere wind words
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 85 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. Why ! do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Seite 30 - Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught : leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.
Seite 72 - ... twere the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Seite 13 - That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!
Seite 107 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Seite 68 - Get thee to a nunnery ; Why would'st thou be a breeder of sinners ? I am myself indifferent honest ; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me...
Seite 92 - No, by the rood, not so: You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; And — would it were not so ! — you are my mother. Queen. Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. Ham. Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge ; You go not till I set you up a glass Where you may see the inmost part of you.
Seite 89 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law...
Seite 93 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Seite 63 - I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil : and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, — As he is very potent with such spirits, — Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: — the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.