Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Achilles Ăgypt Agamemnon Ajax Brutus CŠfar Cafca Caffius Calchas Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Clot Cloten Creffid Cymbeline death defire Diomede doth Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes faid farewel fear feem fervice fhall fhew fhould fight flain fleep foldier fome fpeak fpirit friends ftand ftill ftrange fuch fweet fword gods Guiderius hath hear heart heav'ns Hect Hector himſelf honour Iach Imogen Lady Lepidus Lord Lucius Madam mafter Mark Antony Menelaus Moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Neft night noble Octavia Pandarus Patroclus Pifanio pleaſe pleaſure Pleb Poft Pofthumus Pompey pr'ythee praiſe Priam purpoſe Queen Roman Rome SCENE ſhall ſhe ſpeak ſtand tell thee thefe Ther Therfites theſe thing thofe thou art Titinius Troi Troilus Ulyffes whofe your's yourſelf
PÓgina 55 - Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ; Dash him to pieces ! Cas. I denied you not. Bru. You did. Cas. I did not : he was but a fool that brought My answer back.
PÓgina 4 - Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The livelong day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome...
PÓgina 54 - 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.
PÓgina 9 - Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, "Brutus" will start a spirit as soon as "Caesar.
PÓgina 19 - 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.
PÓgina 315 - Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
PÓgina 40 - O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers; Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times.
PÓgina 9 - 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...