Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
againſt anſwer Antony bear beſt better blood bring Brutus Cæfar Cæſar Cafar Caſca cauſe Changes Char Cleo Clot comes Coriolanus dead death doth Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes face fall fear fight firſt follow fortune friends give Gods gone Guid hand hath hear heard heart hence himſelf hold honour I'll Italy keep King Lady leave live look lord Madam Marcius Mark maſter mean moſt mother muſt myſelf nature never noble o'th peace Pleb poor Power pray preſent Queen Roman Rome ſay ſee Senators ſhall ſhe ſhould Soldier ſome ſpeak ſtand ſuch ſword tell thank thee theſe thing thoſe thou thought true voices whoſe worthy
Pàgina 127 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Pàgina 169 - It will inflame you, it will make you mad: 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
Pàgina 171 - Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They, that have done this deed, are honourable; What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it; they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
Pàgina 138 - 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 171 - I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, 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 Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Pàgina 169 - 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.
Pàgina 301 - 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: For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas That grew the more by reaping.
Pàgina 305 - He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself; but hark thee, Charmian. [Whispers CHARMIAN. Iras. Finish, good lady ; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark.