The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare, Volum 12
F. C. and J. Rivington; T. Egerton; J. Cuthell; Scatcherd and Letterman; Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown; Cadell and Davies ... [and 28 others in London], J. Deighton and sons, Cambridge: Wilson and son, York: and Stirling and Slade, Fairbairn and Anderson, and D. Brown, Edinburgh., 1821
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The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections ..., Volum 12
Visualització completa - 1821
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Pàgina 96 - 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. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious : If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, — For Brutus is an honourable man ; So are they all, all honourable men, — Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
Pàgina 16 - tis true, this god did shake ; His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried, 'Give me some drink, Titinius,
Pàgina 97 - But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now, lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Pàgina 115 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd 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...
Pàgina 235 - 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.
Pàgina 117 - All this ? ay, more. Fret, till your proud heart break ; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
Pàgina 35 - tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend.
Pàgina 119 - Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, For Cassius is aweary of the world ; Hated by one he loves ; braved...
Pàgina 115 - I an itching palm? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. BRU. The name of Cassius honours this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. CAS. Chastisement! BRU. Remember March, the ides of March remembe: ! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice?
Pàgina 118 - For I can raise no money by vile means: By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection: I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?