The Plays of William Shakspeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copies Left by the Late George Steevens, Esq., and Edmond Malone, Esq., with Mr. Malone's Various Readings; a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, and a Life of Shakspeare, Volume 7
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Aaron Andronicus Bassianus Bawd blood Boult brother Brutus Caes Caesar Casca Cassius Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Cloten Cymbeline dead death Dionyza dost doth Ea.eunt Eacit emperor ENOBARBUs Enter Ereunt Erit Eros eyes farewell father fear fortune friends Fulvia give gods Goths GUIDERIUS hand hath hear heart heaven hither honour i'the Iach Imogen Julius Caesar king lady Lavinia Lepidus look lord Lucius LYSIMACHUs madam Malone Marcus Marina Mark Antony means Mess mistress musick never night noble o'the Octavia Pentapolis Pericles Pisanio Pompey Post Posthumus pray prince Prince of Tyre queen Roman Rome SATURNINUs SCENE Shakspeare speak sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Titinius Titus Titus Andronicus unto villain weep word
Page 56 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears : I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
Page 11 - I, as ^Eneas, our great ancestor, Did, from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder, The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber, Did I the tired 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...
Page 56 - 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 honorable 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 honorable man.
Page 75 - There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.
Page 226 - Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have Immortal longings in me : Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title ! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
Page 59 - Caesar lov'd him. This was the most unkindest cut of all: For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
Page 54 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honour him : but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love ; joy for his fortune ; honour for his valour ; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended.
Page 69 - You say you are a better soldier: Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well: for mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. Cas. You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; I said, an elder soldier, not a better: Did I say "better"?
Page 129 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Page 6 - 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...