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The Dramatic Works and Poems of William Shakespeare, with Notes ..., Volume 1
Visualização completa - 1831
The Dramatic Works and Poems of William Shakespeare, with Notes ..., Volume 2
Visualização completa - 1831
Antony appears arms Attendants bear better blood bring brother Brutus Cæsar cause Cleo comes copy crown daughter dead death doth duke Edward Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair fall father fear fight follow fool fortune France friends give gods grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold Holinshed honour hope I'll keep king King Henry lady leave live look lord madam master means mind mother nature never night noble once passage peace person play poor pray present prince queen Rich Richard Rome SCENE Serv Shakspeare soul speak stand stay sweet sword tears tell thank thee thing thou thou art thought true unto Warwick York
Página 263 - Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.
Página 144 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr...
Página 264 - I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood. I only speak right on ; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle...
Página 251 - Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure with them, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Página 161 - Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead: Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then...
Página 307 - Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath...
Página 89 - Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them ; 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.
Página 320 - O! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men, as angels, without feminine; Or find some other way to generate Mankind?
Página 161 - Amidst the other : whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander.
Página 209 - I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft.