The Works of William Shakespeare: From the Text of the Rev. Alexander Dyce's Second Edition ; Complete in Seven Volumes, 第 5 卷

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Bernhard Tauchnitz, 1868

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第 326 頁 - my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ; I tell you that which you yourselves do know ; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths...
第 365 頁 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires ; Let not light see my black and deep desires : The eye wink at the hand ; yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
第 369 頁 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, 'With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here. But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come...
第 159 頁 - Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
第 375 頁 - Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep ; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave* of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast ; — Lady M. What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house : Glamis hath murder d sleep ; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more.
第 283 頁 - Caesar : and this man Is now become a god ; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body. If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake ; 'tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their...
第 362 頁 - This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill ; cannot be good : — if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth ? I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair. And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature...
第 389 頁 - Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck. Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale...
第 388 頁 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well ; Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
第 322 頁 - 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. You all did see, that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honourable man.

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