Shakespeare's Tragedy of CoriolanusHarper & brothers, 1884 - 279 Seiten |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
1st folio Antiates Antium Aufidius banishment battle blood Brutus Caius Marcius Capell carbonado Censorinus Citizen Clarke Coll Cominius command common conjectures consul contempt Coriolanus Corioli Cotgrave Cymb Delius Edile edition ellipsis enemies Enter envy Exeunt fear flatter folios read follow friends gates give gods Hanmer hate hath hear heart honour Johnson Julius Cæsar ladies Lear lord Macb malice Malone means Menenius Messenger mother nature never nobility noble noun passage Patricians peace play plebeians Plutarch Pope pray pride proud revenge Rich Roman Rome SCENE Schmidt Senate sense Servingman Shakespeare Shakspere Sicinius soldier speak speech stand Steevens quotes sword Tarpeian rock tell Temp thee Theo thing TITUS LARTIUS tongue tribunes trumpets unto Valeria valiant verb Virgilia voices Volsces Volscian Volumnia Warb wars wife word worthy yield
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 40 - I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, As if a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
Seite 234 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
Seite 119 - You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you; And here remain with your uncertainty! Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, Fan you into despair! Have the power still To banish your defenders; till, at length, Your ignorance, (which finds not, till it feels,) Making...
Seite 41 - Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. — Boy ! False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 't is there, That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it.— Boy ! Auf.
Seite 50 - Who deserves greatness Deserves your hate. And your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon your favours swims with fins of lead And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye? 180 With every minute you do change a mind, And call him noble that was now your hate, Him vile that was your garland.
Seite 239 - I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Seite 202 - I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please...
Seite 177 - And if fortune overthrow thee, then the world will say, that, through desire to revenge thy private injuries, thou hast for ever undone thy good friends, who did most lovingly and courteously receive thee.
Seite 178 - you have won a happy victory for your country, but mortal and unhappy for your son : for I see myself vanquished by you alone.