Dramatic Works of Shakespeare: The Text of the 1st EdChatto and Windus, 1885 |
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Strana 265
... Unkle , never more To give th'assay of Armes against your Majestie . Whereon old Norwey , overcome with joy , Gives him three thousand Crownes in Annuall Fee , And his Commission to imploy those Soldiers So levied as before , against ...
... Unkle , never more To give th'assay of Armes against your Majestie . Whereon old Norwey , overcome with joy , Gives him three thousand Crownes in Annuall Fee , And his Commission to imploy those Soldiers So levied as before , against ...
Strana 279
... Unkle . Ile observe his lookes , Ile tent him to the quicke : if he but blench I know my course . The Spirit that I have seene May be the Divel , and the Divell hath power T'assume a pleasing shape , yea and perhaps Out of my Weaknesse ...
... Unkle . Ile observe his lookes , Ile tent him to the quicke : if he but blench I know my course . The Spirit that I have seene May be the Divel , and the Divell hath power T'assume a pleasing shape , yea and perhaps Out of my Weaknesse ...
Strana 288
... Unkle : If his occulted guilt , Do not it selfe unkennell in one speech , It is a damned Ghost that we have seene : And my Imaginations are as foule As Vulcans Stythe . Give him needfull note , For I mine eyes will rivet to his Face ...
... Unkle : If his occulted guilt , Do not it selfe unkennell in one speech , It is a damned Ghost that we have seene : And my Imaginations are as foule As Vulcans Stythe . Give him needfull note , For I mine eyes will rivet to his Face ...
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Alcibiades Apemantus Athens Ayre Banq Banquo beare beleeve blood Brut Brutus businesse Cæsar Casar Cask Caska Cassi Cawdor Cinna dayes dead death deed deere do's Dogge dost doth Enter Macbeth Exeunt Exit eyes farre Father feare flye Foole Fortune Friends generall give Gods greefe ha's Hamlet hand hath heare heart Heaven hee's heere honest Honourable Horatio is't King Lady Laer Laertes Lenox live looke Lord Timon Lordship Lucius Macb Macbeth Macd Macduffe madnesse Mark Antony Messala morrow Mother Murther neere night Noble Ophe Ophelia Osricke pitty Poet Polon Polonius pray prythee Queene Reynol Rosin Rosse Scana Scena Servant shew sleepe Sonne Soule speake Spirit Stew Sunne Sword tell Thane thee There's thine thing thinke thou art thy selfe Titinius Unkle Vertue Villaine voyce Wee'l words
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Strana 106 - 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.
Strana 299 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
Strana 123 - He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.
Strana 329 - No, faith, not a jot ; but to follow him thither with modesty . enough, and likelihood to lead it : as thus : Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth...
Strana 134 - Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honors, For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?
Strana 126 - 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.
Strana 175 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: — I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not , fatal vision , sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
Strana 100 - Caesar must bleed for it. And, gentle friends, Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds...
Strana 285 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Strana 124 - 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...