Works, Volum 7Bell & Bradfute, J. Dickinson [and others], 1795 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 44.
Pàgina 27
... What's to do ? Bru A piece of work that will make fick men whole . Lig . But are not fome whole that we must make fick ? Bru . That we must also . What it is , my Caius , I fhall unfold to thee , as we are going , To whom it must be ...
... What's to do ? Bru A piece of work that will make fick men whole . Lig . But are not fome whole that we must make fick ? Bru . That we must also . What it is , my Caius , I fhall unfold to thee , as we are going , To whom it must be ...
Pàgina 56
... what's the matter ? Poet . For fhame , you Generals ; what do you mean Love , and be friends , as two fuch men fhould be ; For I have feen more years , I'm fure , than ye . Caf . Ha , ha - how vilely doth this cynic rhime ! Bru . Get ...
... what's the matter ? Poet . For fhame , you Generals ; what do you mean Love , and be friends , as two fuch men fhould be ; For I have feen more years , I'm fure , than ye . Caf . Ha , ha - how vilely doth this cynic rhime ! Bru . Get ...
Pàgina 79
... what elfe more ferious Importeth thee to know , this bears . Ant . Forbear me.- [ Exit fecond Messenger . There's a great ... What's your pleasure , Sir ? Ant . I muft with hafte from hence . We fee Eno . Why , then we kill all our women ...
... what elfe more ferious Importeth thee to know , this bears . Ant . Forbear me.- [ Exit fecond Messenger . There's a great ... What's your pleasure , Sir ? Ant . I muft with hafte from hence . We fee Eno . Why , then we kill all our women ...
Pàgina 81
... What's the matter ? Cleo . I know by that fame eye , there's fome good What fays the marry'd woman ? you may go ; [ news . ' Would she had never given you leave to come ! Let her not fay , ' tis I that keep you here , I have no pow'r ...
... What's the matter ? Cleo . I know by that fame eye , there's fome good What fays the marry'd woman ? you may go ; [ news . ' Would she had never given you leave to come ! Let her not fay , ' tis I that keep you here , I have no pow'r ...
Pàgina 86
... what by fea and land I can be able , To front this prefent time . Caf . Till which encounter , It is my business too ... What's your Highness ' pleasure ? Cleo . Cleo . Not now to hear thee fing . I 86 A & 1 . ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA ,
... what by fea and land I can be able , To front this prefent time . Caf . Till which encounter , It is my business too ... What's your Highness ' pleasure ? Cleo . Cleo . Not now to hear thee fing . I 86 A & 1 . ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA ,
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Works: Of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes. Collated with the ..., Volum 7 William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1757 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Achilles Ægypt Afide againſt Agamemnon Ajax anfwer beft Brutus Cæfar Cafar Cafca Caffius Calchas Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Clot Creffid Cymbeline defire Diomede doth Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes fafe falfe fear feem fervice fhall fhew fhould flain foldier fome fpeak fpirit friends ftand ftill ftrange fuch fure fweet fword gods Guiderius hath hear heart heav'ns Hector himſelf honour Iach Imogen itſelf Lady Lepidus Lord Lucius Madam mafter Mark Antony Menelaus moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Neft noble Octavia Pandarus Patroclus Pifanio pleaſe pleaſure Pleb Poft Pofthumus Pompey pr'ythee praiſe prefent Priam purpoſe Queen reaſon Roman Rome SCENE ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe Ther Therfites theſe thing thoſe thou art Titinius Troi Troilus Ulyffes What's whofe yourſelf
Passatges populars
Pàgina 19 - It must be by his death: and, for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crown'd:— How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day, that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking.
Pàgina 46 - 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.
Pàgina 47 - 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...
Pàgina 46 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent; That day he overcame the Nervii : — Look ! in this place, ran Cassius...
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 42 - CAESAR'S body. 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?
Pàgina 47 - 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 45 - 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 279 - But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea! shaking of earth! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixture...
Pàgina 153 - O, wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fall'n : young boys and girls Are level now with men ; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.