The Works of Shakespear: Coriolanus. Julius Cesar. Antony and Cleopatra. CymbelineRobert Martin, 1768 |
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Rezultatai 15 iš 78
122 psl.
... Cafar , and to rejoice in his triumph . Mar. Wherefore rejoice ! -what conqueft brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome , To grace in captive bonds his chariot - wheels ? You blocks , you ftones , you worfe than fenfeless ...
... Cafar , and to rejoice in his triumph . Mar. Wherefore rejoice ! -what conqueft brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome , To grace in captive bonds his chariot - wheels ? You blocks , you ftones , you worfe than fenfeless ...
123 psl.
... Cafar fpeaks . Caf . Calphurnia , Calp . Here , my lord . Caf . Stand you directly in Antonius ' way , When he doth run his CourfeAntonius , - Ant . Cæfar , my lord . Caf . Forget not in your speed , Antonius , To touch Calphurnia ; for ...
... Cafar fpeaks . Caf . Calphurnia , Calp . Here , my lord . Caf . Stand you directly in Antonius ' way , When he doth run his CourfeAntonius , - Ant . Cæfar , my lord . Caf . Forget not in your speed , Antonius , To touch Calphurnia ; for ...
124 psl.
... Cafar , Caf . Ha ! who calls ? Cafca . Bid every noise be still : peace yet again . Caf . Who is it in the Prefs , that calls on me ? I hear a tongue , fhriller than all the mufic , Cry , Cæfar . Speak ; Cæfar is turn'd to hear . Sooth ...
... Cafar , Caf . Ha ! who calls ? Cafca . Bid every noise be still : peace yet again . Caf . Who is it in the Prefs , that calls on me ? I hear a tongue , fhriller than all the mufic , Cry , Cæfar . Speak ; Cæfar is turn'd to hear . Sooth ...
127 psl.
... Cafar . Caf . Why , man , he doth beftride the narrow world Like a Coloffus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs , and peep about To find ourselves difhonourable graves . Men at sometimes are mafters of their fates : The fault ...
... Cafar . Caf . Why , man , he doth beftride the narrow world Like a Coloffus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs , and peep about To find ourselves difhonourable graves . Men at sometimes are mafters of their fates : The fault ...
128 psl.
... Cafar feed , That he is grown fo great ? Age , thou art fham'd ; Rome , thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods . When went there by an age , fince the great flood , But it was fam'd with more than with one man ! When could they fay ...
... Cafar feed , That he is grown fo great ? Age , thou art fham'd ; Rome , thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods . When went there by an age , fince the great flood , But it was fam'd with more than with one man ! When could they fay ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Afide againſt anſwer Aufidius beft Brutus Cæfar Cafar Cafca Caffius Caius cauſe Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Clot Cloten Cominius Coriolanus Cymbeline death defire doth Enobarbus Eros Exeunt Exit faid falfe fear feem fervice fhall fhew fhould fince firft flain foldier fome fpeak fpirit friends ftand ftill ftrange fuch fure fword Gods Guiderius hath hear heart heav'ns himſelf honour i'th Iach Imogen Lady laft Lart lefs Lepidus lord Lucius Madam mafter Marcius Mark Antony Meffenger Menenius moft moſt muft muſt myſelf noble o'th Octavia peace Pifanio pleaſe pleaſure Pleb Poft Pofthumus Pompey pr'ythee pray prefent purpoſe Queen Roman Rome ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thing thofe thoſe Titinius Volfcians Volumnius whofe whoſe worfe yourſelf
Populiarios ištraukos
127 psl. - 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.
149 psl. - 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.
169 psl. - 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!
171 psl. - 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.
138 psl. - 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.
171 psl. - 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.
169 psl. - 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.
301 psl. - 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.
305 psl. - 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.
165 psl. - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.