The Works of Shakespeare: Julius Caesar. Antony and Cleopatra. Titus Andronicus. Pericles. Venus and Adonis. Rape of Lucrece. Sonnets. Lover's complaint. Passionate Pilgrim. Sonnets to sundry notes of music. Song. Verses among the additional poems to Chester's Love's martyr, 1601

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G. Routledge & sons, limited, 1891
 

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Page 427 - Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Page 32 - 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 398 - When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope...
Page 50 - I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love 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...
Page 100 - 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 48 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Page 49 - Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
Page 57 - And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Page 47 - 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 49 - 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...

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