The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Volume 7Dove, 1830 |
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Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Andronicus Bassianus Bawd blood Boult brother Brutus Cæsar call'd Casca Cassius Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Cloten Cymbeline daughter dead death DIONYZA dost doth 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 IACHIMO Imogen JOHNSON Julius Cæsar king lady Lavinia Lepidus look lord Lucius LYSIMACHUS madam MALONE Marcus Marina Mark Antony master Mess mistress musick never night noble o'the Octavia Pentapolis Pericles Pisanio Plutarch Pompey Post Posthumus pr'ythee pray prince prince of Tyre queen Roman Rome SCENE Shakspeare speak STEEVENS sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Titinius Titus TITUS ANDRONICUS unto villain weep word
Populaire passages
Pagina 47 - 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 47 - Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honourable man.
Pagina 83 - NAY, but this dotage of our general's O'erflows the measure : those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front : his captain's heart, Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst The buckles on his breast, reneges* all temper; And is become the bellows, and the fan, To cool a gipsy's lust.
Pagina 8 - I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, honour is the subject of my story.— I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I m,yself. I was born free as Caesar; so were you: We both have fed as well; and we can both Endure the winter's cold, as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Caesar said to...
Pagina 195 - 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: husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
Pagina 46 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death , shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; As which of you shall not ? With this I depart ; That, as I slew my bes't lover" for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Pagina 45 - Who is here so base that would be a bondman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
Pagina 111 - The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, Burned 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 60 - O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
Pagina 50 - O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity; these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what! weep you when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.