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The British Theatre; Or, A Collection of Plays,: Which are Acted at the ...
Visualização completa - 1808
The British Theatre: Or, A Collection of Plays, which are Acted at ..., Volume 3
Visualização completa - 1824
The British Theatre: Or, A Collection of Plays, which are Acted at ..., Volume 7
Visualização completa - 1824
art thou ATTEN DANTs attend Banquo better blood Brutus Caes Caesar Casca Cassius Cawdor Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Cloten Cord Cordelia Cymbeline daughter dead dear death Diom dost doth Edgar Edmund Enob Enter Ereunt Erit Eros eyes farewell father fear Fleance fortune friends Fulvia give Glost Gloster gods Guard GUIDERIUs hand hath hear heart Heaven honour i'the Iach Imog Imogen Iras Kent KING LEAR Lady look lord Lucius Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff madam Mark Antony master Mess night noble o'the pardon peace Pisanio Pleb poor Post Posthumus pr’ythee pray queen Regan Roman Rome royal SCENE SEYToN shalt sleep soldier speak sword tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Thunder Thyr Trebonius twas villain What's Witch word worthy
Página 40 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
Página 8 - Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. The torrent roar'd ; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, Caesar cried,
Página 41 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying...
Página 20 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch ' With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come.
Página 24 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Página 9 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Página 10 - Things that do sound so fair? — 1' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show ? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal ; to me you speak not ; If you can look into the seeds of time, And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, (1) A man forbid, — one under a curse, accursed. Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear, Your favours nor your hate.
Página 24 - I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Página 22 - When Duncan is asleep, (Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassel so convince, That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only : When in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie, as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon Th' unguarded Duncan ? what not put upon.
Página 19 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting. martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, The air is delicate.