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arms bear beauty better blood body break breath Brutus Cæsar cheek crown dead dear death deed dost doth dream ears earth eyes face fair fall false father fear feel fire fool fortune friends gentle give gods gold grave grief hand hang hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hold honour hope hour I'll keep kind king kiss Lady leave light lips live look lord mean mind murder nature never night noble o'er once pity play poor prince queen reason seen sleep smile soul sound speak spirit stand strange sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought thousand tongue true turn virtue wear weep wife wind young youth
Сторінка 264 - 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.
Сторінка 109 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Сторінка 50 - Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Сторінка 49 - The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God...
Сторінка 226 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Сторінка 185 - 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.
Сторінка 247 - 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.
Сторінка 245 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure.
Сторінка 266 - 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.
Сторінка 21 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man. Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ; . Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished ; So sweet and voluble is his discourse.