Julius Caesar

Ainsworth, 1901 - 115 Seiten
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Seite 56 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart, — that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Seite 23 - How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day, that brings forth the adder; And that craves wary walking. Crown him?— That;— And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with.
Seite 62 - O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
Seite 61 - 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...
Seite 11 - So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony : he hears no music : Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing.
Seite 3 - 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 live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome...
Seite 53 - Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy — Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue — A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy...
Seite 9 - To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus, and Caesar : what should be in that Caesar...
Seite 73 - There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am armed so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me...
Seite 10 - Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great ? Age, thou art...

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