The Works of William Shakespeare, Volumen5 |
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Página 7
To this your son is mark ' d ; and die he must , To appease their groaning
shadows that are gone . Luc . Away with him ! and make a fire straight ; And with
our swords , upon a pile of wood , Let ' s hew his limbs till they be clean consum '
d .
To this your son is mark ' d ; and die he must , To appease their groaning
shadows that are gone . Luc . Away with him ! and make a fire straight ; And with
our swords , upon a pile of wood , Let ' s hew his limbs till they be clean consum '
d .
Página 13
Marcus , even thou hast struck upon my crest , And , with these boys , mine
honour thou hast wounded : My foes I do repute you every one ; So , trouble me
no more , but get you gone . Mart . He is not with himself ; let us withdraw . Quin .
Marcus , even thou hast struck upon my crest , And , with these boys , mine
honour thou hast wounded : My foes I do repute you every one ; So , trouble me
no more , but get you gone . Mart . He is not with himself ; let us withdraw . Quin .
Página 28
Aaron is gone ; and my compassionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to
behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise : O , tell me how ( 33 ) it is ; for
ne ' er till now Was I a child to fear I know not what . Mart . Lord Bassianus lies ...
Aaron is gone ; and my compassionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to
behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise : O , tell me how ( 33 ) it is ; for
ne ' er till now Was I a child to fear I know not what . Mart . Lord Bassianus lies ...
Página 35
... wretched sons are gone ; Here stands my other son , a banish ' d man ; And
here my brother , weeping at my woes : But that which gives my soul the greatest
spurn , Is dear Lavinia , dearer than my soul .Had I but seen thy picture in this ...
... wretched sons are gone ; Here stands my other son , a banish ' d man ; And
here my brother , weeping at my woes : But that which gives my soul the greatest
spurn , Is dear Lavinia , dearer than my soul .Had I but seen thy picture in this ...
Página 42
Out on thee , murderer ! thou kill ' st my heart ; Mine eyes are ( 55 ) cloy ' d with
view of tyranny : A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus '
brother : get thee gone ; I see thou art not for my company . Marc . Alas , my lord ,
I have ...
Out on thee , murderer ! thou kill ' st my heart ; Mine eyes are ( 55 ) cloy ' d with
view of tyranny : A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus '
brother : get thee gone ; I see thou art not for my company . Marc . Alas , my lord ,
I have ...
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Términos y frases comunes
altered arms Attendants bear better blood bring brother Brutus Cæsar Cassius Collier's comes Corrector daughter dead dear death dost doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair fall father fear folio follow Fool fortune friends give gods gone Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honour I'll keep Kent king Lady Lear leave live look lord Lucius Macb master means mother murder nature never night noble Nurse play poor pray present quartos Queen reading Rome Romeo Scene Serv Servant Shakespeare sleep soul speak speech stand stay sweet sword tears tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought Timon tongue true young
Pasajes populares
Página 519 - ... 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.
Página 489 - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand an end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Página 339 - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him : For I have neither wit...
Página 338 - 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...
Página 512 - What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have ? He would drown the stage with tears, And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant ; and amaze, indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Página 294 - You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The livelong day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication...
Página 573 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?
Página 332 - All pity choked with custom of fell deeds : And Caesar's spirit ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice Cry
Página 490 - With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, And in the porches of mine ears did pour The leperous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man, That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body; And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust All my smooth body.
Página 529 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me. You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Información bibliográfica
| Título | The Works of William Shakespeare, Volumen5 The Works of William Shakespeare, Alexander Dyce |
| Autor | William Shakespeare |
| Editor | Alexander Dyce |
| Editor | E. Moxon, 1857 |
| Procedencia del original | Universidad de Harvard |
| Digitalizado | 6 Feb. 2008 |
| Exportar cita | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |