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againſt arms bear beautiful better blood body breath bring Brutus Cæſar cheeks cold dead dear death Deſcription doth dream ears earth excellent eyes face fair fall father fear fire firſt foul friends give gods gold grief hand hath head hear heard heart heav'n himſelf honour hour itſelf keep king Lady leave light live look lord Macb means mind moſt muſt myſelf nature never night noble o'er obſerves once paſſage peace play poet poor reader Romeo ſays SCENE SCENE II ſee ſeems ſeen ſenſe ſet Shakeſpear ſhall ſhe ſhould ſleep ſmiles ſome ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſtill ſuch ſweet tears tell thee theſe things thoſe thou thou art thought tongue true turn uſe whoſe wife wind
101 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.
142 psl. - Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
239 psl. - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past ; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
102 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.
122 psl. - Alas! sir, are you here? things that love night love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies gallow the very wanderers of the dark, and make them keep their caves. Since I was man such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never remember to have heard; man's nature cannot carry the affliction nor the fear.
52 psl. - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
93 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.
110 psl. - O Cassius ! you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire, Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
116 psl. - ... we make guilty of our disasters the sun the moon and the stars ; as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion, knaves thieves and treachers by spherical predominance, drunkards liars and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence, and all that we are evil in by a divine thrusting on...