The Plays of William Shakspeare: Julius Caesar ; Antony and Cleopatra ; Cymbeline ; Titus Andronicus ; PericlesJ. Nichols, 1811 |
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Pagina 76
... sword . Bru . O , if thou wert the noblest of thy strain , Young man , thou could'st not die more honourable . Cas . A peevish schoolboy , worthless of such ho- nour , Join'd with a masker and a reveller . Ant . Old Cassius still ! Oct ...
... sword . Bru . O , if thou wert the noblest of thy strain , Young man , thou could'st not die more honourable . Cas . A peevish schoolboy , worthless of such ho- nour , Join'd with a masker and a reveller . Ant . Old Cassius still ! Oct ...
Pagina 80
... sword , That ran through Cæsar's bowels , search this bosom . Stand not to answer : Here , take thou the hilts ; And , when my face is cover'd , as ' tis now , Guide thou the sword . - Cæsar , thou art reveng'd , Even with the sword ...
... sword , That ran through Cæsar's bowels , search this bosom . Stand not to answer : Here , take thou the hilts ; And , when my face is cover'd , as ' tis now , Guide thou the sword . - Cæsar , thou art reveng'd , Even with the sword ...
Pagina 81
... sword , and find Titinius ' heart . [ Dies . Alarum . Re - enter Messala , with Brutus , young Cato , Strato ... swords In E 2 Scene III . 81 JULIUS CESAR . Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this ...
... sword , and find Titinius ' heart . [ Dies . Alarum . Re - enter Messala , with Brutus , young Cato , Strato ... swords In E 2 Scene III . 81 JULIUS CESAR . Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this ...
Pagina 82
William Shakespeare. Thy spirit walks abroad , and turns our swords In our own proper entrails . [ Low alarums . Brave Titinius ! Cato . Look , whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius ! Bru . Are yet two Romans living such as these ...
William Shakespeare. Thy spirit walks abroad , and turns our swords In our own proper entrails . [ Low alarums . Brave Titinius ! Cato . Look , whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius ! Bru . Are yet two Romans living such as these ...
Pagina 85
... sword - hilts , whilst I run on it . Vol . That's not an office for a friend , my lord . [ Alarum still . Cli . Fly , fly , my lord ; there is no tarrying here . Bru . Farewell to you ; -and you ; -and you , Vo- lumnius.- Strato , thou ...
... sword - hilts , whilst I run on it . Vol . That's not an office for a friend , my lord . [ Alarum still . Cli . Fly , fly , my lord ; there is no tarrying here . Bru . Farewell to you ; -and you ; -and you , Vo- lumnius.- Strato , thou ...
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Aaron Andronicus Bassianus Bawd better blood Boult brother Brutus Cæs Cæsar call'd Casca Cassius Char Charmian Cleo Cleon Cleopatra Cloten Cymbeline daughter dead death deed Dionyza dost doth Egypt emperor Enobarbus Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes farewell father fear fortune friends Fulvia give gods Goths Guiderius hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour i'the Iach Imogen Julius Cæsar king lady Lavinia Lepidus look lord Lucius Lysimachus madam Marcus Marina Mark Antony master Mess mistress musick never night noble o'the Octavia Parthia peace Pericles Pisanio Pompey Post Posthumus pr'ythee pray prince queen Re-enter Roman Rome Saturninus SCENE speak sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Titinius Titus Titus Andronicus tongue unto villain weep
Pasaje populare
Pagina 119 - 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.
Pagina 51 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
Pagina 64 - All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Pagina 70 - There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.
Pagina 54 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent; That day he overcame the Nervii : — Look ! In this place ran Cassius...
Pagina 12 - Would he were fatter ; but I fear him not : Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music : Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort, As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mov'd to smile at any thing.
Pagina 55 - Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops.
Pagina 186 - Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish, A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants. Eros. Ay, my lord. Ant. That, which is now a horse, even with a thought, The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, As water is in water.
Pagina 63 - I an itching palm ! You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. Bru.
Pagina 334 - No withered witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew: The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew; The redbreast oft, at evening hours, Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gathered flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.