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Էջ 221 - 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...
Էջ 133 - Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height.
Էջ 181 - I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge 1 if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
Էջ 149 - Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honors, For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?
Էջ 133 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, "God for Harry! England and Saint George!
Էջ 133 - Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding ; which I doubt not ; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
Էջ 34 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe...
Էջ 131 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Էջ 176 - The waves were dead ; the tides were in their grave, The moon their mistress had expired before ; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd ; Darkness had no need Of aid from them — She was the universe.
Էջ 150 - Bru. 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. Cos. You wrong me every way you wrong me, Brutus ; I said, an elder soldier, not a better ; Did I say better ? Bru.

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