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againe answer Antony beare better blood bring Brutus Cæsar Cassi Cesar comes dead death deed doth downe eare Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fall Father feare finde fire follow Foole Fortune Friends give Gods gone grace Hamlet hand hast hath head heare heart Heaven heere himselfe hold honest Honor keepe King Lady Laer leave live looke Lord Macb Macbeth Macd Marke Master meanes meete minde Mother Murther Nature never night Noble once Ophe peace Play Poet poore pray present Queene Rome Rosin Rosse seene selfe Servant shew sleepe Sonne Soule speake Spirit stand stay strange Sword tell thanke thee There's thine things thinke thou thou art thought Timon tongue true Wife
Strana 94 - 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 111 - 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 122 - 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 88 - 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 163 - 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 238 - What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form, and moving, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals ! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.
Strana 251 - 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 252 - And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary question of the play be then to be considered; that's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.