The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Volume 5D. Appleton & Company, 1872 |
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Page 59
... dead , who hath outstretch'd his span : Some beast rear'd this ; there does not live a man . Dead , sure ; and this his grave , -what's on this tomb I cannot read ; the character I'll take with wax : Our captain hath in every figure ...
... dead , who hath outstretch'd his span : Some beast rear'd this ; there does not live a man . Dead , sure ; and this his grave , -what's on this tomb I cannot read ; the character I'll take with wax : Our captain hath in every figure ...
Page 61
... dead ; Entomb'd upon the very hem o ' the sea ; And on his grave - stone this insculpture , which With wax I brought away , whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance . Alcib . [ reads . ] Here lies a wretched corse , of ...
... dead ; Entomb'd upon the very hem o ' the sea ; And on his grave - stone this insculpture , which With wax I brought away , whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance . Alcib . [ reads . ] Here lies a wretched corse , of ...
Page 120
... dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air , -I banish you ; And here remain with your uncertainty ! Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts ! Your enemies , with nodding of their plumes , Fan you into despair ! Have the ...
... dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air , -I banish you ; And here remain with your uncertainty ! Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts ! Your enemies , with nodding of their plumes , Fan you into despair ! Have the ...
Page 129
... dead with nothing . Worthy Marcius , Had we no other quarrel else to Rome , but that Thou art thence banish'd , we would muster all From twelve to seventy ; and , pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome , Like a bold flood o ...
... dead with nothing . Worthy Marcius , Had we no other quarrel else to Rome , but that Thou art thence banish'd , we would muster all From twelve to seventy ; and , pouring war Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome , Like a bold flood o ...
Page 154
... , Which to this hour bewail the injury , Yet he shall have a noble memory.- Assist . [ Exeunt , bearing the body of CORIOLANUS . A dead march sounded . JULIUS CÆSAR . JULIUS CAESAR . OCTAVIUS CÆSAR , MARCUS 154 ACT V. CORIOLANUS .
... , Which to this hour bewail the injury , Yet he shall have a noble memory.- Assist . [ Exeunt , bearing the body of CORIOLANUS . A dead march sounded . JULIUS CÆSAR . JULIUS CAESAR . OCTAVIUS CÆSAR , MARCUS 154 ACT V. CORIOLANUS .
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Common terms and phrases
Alcib Alcibiades Andronicus Apem Apemantus art thou Aufidius bear blood brother Brutus Cæs Cæsar Caius Casca Cassius Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Cloten Cominius Coriolanus CYMBELINE dead death dost doth emperor Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes farewell fear Flav fool fortune friends give gods Goths GUIDERIUS hand hath hear heart heaven honour Iach Imogen Julius Cæsar lady Lart Lavinia Lepidus look lord Lucius madam Marc Marcius Mark Antony master Menenius Mess ne'er never noble Octavia peace Pisanio Pompey Posthumus pr'ythee pray queen Re-enter revenge Roman Rome SCENE Senators Serv shalt soldier speak sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee There's thine thou art thou hast Timon Titinius Titus TITUS ANDRONICUS tongue tribunes unto villain Volscian What's word worthy Сут
Popular passages
Page 243 - 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.
Page 196 - 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...
Page 194 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Page 195 - 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 218 - This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He, only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them.
Page 193 - 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.
Page 158 - And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores? And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Page 195 - 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...
Page 190 - A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ; Blood and destruction shall be so in use, And dreadful objects so familiar, That mothers shall but smile, when they behold Their infants quarter'd with the hands of War; All pity...
Page 302 - His legs bestrid the ocean : his rear'd arm Crested the world: * his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail' and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder.