The Plays of William Shakespeare, Volume 7T. Bensley, 1804 |
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Page 59
... poor have cried , Cæsar hath wept : Ambition should be made of sterner stuff : 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 ...
... poor have cried , Cæsar hath wept : Ambition should be made of sterner stuff : 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 ...
Page 60
... poor to do him reverence . O masters ! if I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage , I should do Brutus wrong , and Cassius wrong , Who , you all know , are honourable men : I will not do them wrong ; I rather ...
... poor to do him reverence . O masters ! if I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage , I should do Brutus wrong , and Cassius wrong , Who , you all know , are honourable men : I will not do them wrong ; I rather ...
Page 63
... poor , poor dumb mouths , And bid them speak for me : But were I Brutus , And Brutus Antony , there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits , and put a tongue In every wound of Cæsar , that should move The stones of Rome to rise and ...
... poor , poor dumb mouths , And bid them speak for me : But were I Brutus , And Brutus Antony , there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits , and put a tongue In every wound of Cæsar , that should move The stones of Rome to rise and ...
Page 82
... Poor knave , I blame thee not ; thou art o'er - watch'd . Call Claudius , and some other of my men ; I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent . Luc . Varro , and Claudius ! Enter Varro and Claudius . Var . Calls my lord ? Bru . I ...
... Poor knave , I blame thee not ; thou art o'er - watch'd . Call Claudius , and some other of my men ; I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent . Luc . Varro , and Claudius ! Enter Varro and Claudius . Var . Calls my lord ? Bru . I ...
Page 98
... poor remains of friends , rest on this rock . Cli . Statilius show'd the torch - light ; but , my lord , He came not back ; he is or ta'en , or slain . . Bru . Sit thee down , Clitus : Slaying is the word ; It is a deed in fashion ...
... poor remains of friends , rest on this rock . Cli . Statilius show'd the torch - light ; but , my lord , He came not back ; he is or ta'en , or slain . . Bru . Sit thee down , Clitus : Slaying is the word ; It is a deed in fashion ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aaron Andronicus Bassianus Bawd better blood Boult brother Brutus Cæs Cæsar call'd Casca Cassius Char Charmian Cleo Cleon Cleopatra Cloten Cymbeline daughter dead death deed Dionyza dost doth emperor Enobarbus Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes farewel father fear fortune friends give gods Goths Guiderius hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour Iach Iachimo Imogen Julius Cæsar king lady Lavinia Lepidus look lord Lucius Lysimachus madam Marcus Marina Mark Antony master mistress musick never night noble o'the Octavia Parthia Pericles Pisanio Pompey Post Posthumus pr'ythee pray prince prince of Tyre queen Re-enter Roman Rome Saturninus SCENE speak sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Titinius Titus Titus Andronicus tongue unto villain weep
Popular passages
Page 58 - 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.
Page 56 - 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.
Page 9 - To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar : What should be in that Caesar?
Page 60 - 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 57 - 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 best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Page 62 - Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. 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 135 - tis most certain, Iras : saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets ; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels : Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I
Page 34 - So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings ; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her, and Antony, Enthron'd i...
Page 34 - 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 74 - By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.