The works of William Shakespeare, the text revised by A. Dyce, Časť 131,Zväzok 6

Predný obal

Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy

Čo hovoria ostatní - Napísať recenziu

Na obvyklých miestach sme nenašli žiadne recenzie.

Zvolené strany

Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky

Časté výrazy a frázy

Populárne pasáže

Strana 656 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 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.
Strana 628 - I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
Strana 654 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Strana 669 - 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.
Strana 431 - 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.
Strana 617 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Strana 653 - Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; . And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause ; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him...
Strana 656 - Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors
Strana 440 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Strana 408 - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...

Bibliografické informácie