Shakspeare's Dramatic Works: With Explanatory Notes, 2 tomasJ. Stockdale, 1790 |
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743 psl.
... and we petty men Walk under his huge legs , and peep about To find ourselves difhonourable graves . Men at fome time are mafters of their fates : The fault , dear Brutus , is not in our stars , But in ourselves , that we are underlings ...
... and we petty men Walk under his huge legs , and peep about To find ourselves difhonourable graves . Men at fome time are mafters of their fates : The fault , dear Brutus , is not in our stars , But in ourselves , that we are underlings ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ægypt Afide againſt Ajax anſwer Antony Apemantus art thou beſt blood brother Brutus Cæfar Caffio caufe Cleo Coriolanus death Diomed doft doth duke elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid falfe father fear feems fhall fhew fight firſt flain foldiers fome fool forrow foul fpeak fpirit friends ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword give Glofter grace hath hear heart heaven Henry himſelf honour houſe huſband Iago itſelf king lady Lear lord madam mafter Mark Antony moft moſt muft muſt myſelf night noble Nurfe Othello Pandarus pleaſe pleaſure Pleb pray prefent prince purpoſe Queen reafon reft Rome ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe ſhould ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſtay ſuch tell thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou art thouſand Tybalt unto uſe Warwick whofe word yourſelf
Populiarios ištraukos
753 psl. - 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.
741 psl. - 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.
754 psl. - O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. 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.
692 psl. - 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.
692 psl. - 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.
1004 psl. - So, oft it chances in particular men, That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin, By the o'ergrowth of some complexion...
753 psl. - 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. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man.
744 psl. - 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. Crown him? That; And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with.
943 psl. - And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks ! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall I will do such things What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep ; No, I'll not weep : I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep : O, fool, I shall go mad ! {Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool.
792 psl. - Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish, A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants.