The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: In Ten Volumes: Collated Verbatim with the Most Authentick Copies, and Revised; with the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators; to which are Added, an Essay on the Chronological Order of His Plays; an Essay Relative to Shakspeare and Jonson; a Dissertation on the Three Parts of King Henry VI; an Historical Account of the English Stage; and Notes; by Edmond Malone, Том 7
H. Baldwin, 1790
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Сторінка 374 - 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.
Сторінка 371 - 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.
Сторінка 91 - This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.
Сторінка 317 - 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.
Сторінка 377 - 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.
Сторінка 367 - O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers; Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times.
Сторінка 375 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent ; That day he overcame the Nervii : — Look! in this place ran Cassius...
Сторінка 316 - Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake...
Сторінка 561 - Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish, A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants.