Презентация на тему: William Shakespeare-Immortal Poet of Nature

William Shakespeare-Immortal Poet of Nature

Stratford-on-Avon

Mother, Father and William

Grammar school

Classroom

W. Shakespeare and his wife

The Globe Theatre

Shakespeare was born in the 17th ctntury?William got a good education in London.William marriad late, his wife was younger than him.William Shakespeare had three children: daughter Susanna and twin sons.Shakespeare never acted on stage.Shakespeare died in London and was burried in Westminster Abby.

«Hamlet, Prince of Denmark», «The Comedy of Errors», « All's well that ends well», «The Taming of the Strew», «Othello», «A Midsummer Night's Dream», «King Lear», «Much Ado about Nothing», «Macbeth», «Romeo and Juliet», «Julies Caesar», Twelfth Night», « Merry Wives of Windsor», «Antony and Cleopatra».

ComediesComediesThe Comedy of ErrorsThe Taming of the StrewAll's well that ends wellA Midsummer Night's DreamMuch Ado about NothingTwelfth NightMerry Wives of Windsor

The beginning at the end. The beginning at the end. The whirling of time.There's the rub. All is well that ends well .То win golden opinions.Life is not all cakes and ale.Brevity is the soul of wit.Much Ado about nothing.Sweets to sweet.

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry;Tired with all these, for restful death I cry;As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jolity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn,And gilded honour shamefully misplacedAnd maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled,And art made tongue-tied by authority,And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,And simple truth miscalled simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill:Tired with all these, from these would I be gone Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

Then hate me when thou wilt1; if ever, now, Then hate me when thou wilt1; if ever, now, Now, while the world is beiit my deeds to cross,Join with the spite of Fortune, make me bow,And do not drop in for an after-loss.Ah, do not, whiten my heart hath2 'scaped this sorrow.Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come: so shall I taste At first the very worst of Fortune's might;And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee3 will not

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their bodies 'force;Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill; Some in their hawks and Hounds, some ill their horse;And every humour hath his 'adjunp leasureWherein it finds a joy above the rest. But these particulars are not my measure; All these I better in one general best, Thy4 love is/better than high birth to me, Richer than wealth, prouder than garments'cost, Of more delight than hawks or horses be;. And having thee, of all men's pride I boast: Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst5 takeAll this away,and me most wretched make.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damask, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks:I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

Thank you for good workGood – bye. By Oleg Naidenkov