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againſt Apem arms bear better blood bring brother changes comes Coriolanus Corn daughter death deed doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear fight firſt follow Fool fortune friends give Gods gone hand hath head hear heart hold honour houſe I'll keep Kent King Lady Lear leave live look lord Lucius Macb Macbeth Macd Marcius maſter means moſt mother muſt nature never night noble o'th peace Poet poor Power pray preſent Roman Rome ſay SCENE ſee ſelf Senators ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſpeak ſtand ſuch tears tell thank thee there's theſe thine thing thoſe thou thou art thought Timon Titus tongue Tribunes true uſe villain voices whoſe worthy
Сторінка 279 - I go, and it is done: the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
Сторінка 278 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Сторінка 273 - Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Сторінка 449 - If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dovecote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it. — Boy ! Auf.
Сторінка 49 - 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.
Сторінка 279 - 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?
Сторінка 327 - I have liv'd long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear , the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age , As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have...
Сторінка 285 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys : renown, and grace, is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.