The Art of Elocution as an Essential Part of Rhetoric: With Instructions in Gesture and an Appendix of Oratorical, Poetical, and Dramatic Extracts

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S. Low, 1867 - Elocution - 423 pages
 

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Page 389 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. To die: to sleep; No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause.
Page 344 - Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake...
Page 395 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes ; 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
Page 341 - Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy — Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue — A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy...
Page 310 - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?
Page 355 - Brutus hath rived my heart : A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. Cas. You love me not. Bru. I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Page 346 - Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my monies, and my usances : Still have I borne it with a patient shrug ; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe...
Page 358 - Who, you all know, are honourable men. I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men.
Page 359 - 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.
Page 353 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

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