Dramatic Works of Shakespeare |
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againe answer Antony beare better blood bring Brutus Casar Cassi comes dead death deed doth downe eare Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face faire fall Father feare finde fire follow Foole Fortune Friends give Gods Gold gone grace ha's 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 matter meanes meete minde Mother Murther Nature never night Noble once Ophe peace Play Poet poore pray present Queene 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 true wee'l Wife
Popular passages
Page 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.
Page 123 - You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind Which I respect not.
Page 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.
Page 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?
Page 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...
Page 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?
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 224 - There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave, To tell us this. Ham. Why, right; you are in the right ; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit, that we shake hands, and part...