Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, to which are Added His ..., Volum 1
Visualització completa - 1821
Achilles Ajax Anne arms bear better blood bring brother Brutus Buck Cæsar Cassius cause Clarence comes Cres crown death doth duke Edward Eliz enemies Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight follow friends Gent give gods grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Hector Henry highness hold honour hope hour I'll keep king lady leave live look lord Marcius master mean meet mind mother never night noble once peace poor pray prince queen rest Rich Richard Rome SCENE Serv soul speak stand stay sweet sword tears tell thank thee Ther thing thou thought tongue Troilus true Ulyss unto voices Warwick York
Pàgina 460 - 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 myself. 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 me ' Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ? ' Upon the word, Accoutred as I...
Pàgina 4 - When that the poor have cried, Caesar 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, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And, sure, he is an honourable man.
Pàgina 3 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come.
Pàgina 240 - This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Pàgina 92 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Pàgina 320 - In monumental mockery. Take the instant way; For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path; For emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue: if you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide they all rush by And leave you hindmost: Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank, Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, O'er-run and trampled on...
Pàgina 4 - And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me.
Pàgina 7 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: 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...
Pàgina 112 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, — So full of dismal terror was the time.
Pàgina 240 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.