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Essais littéraires sur Shakspeare ou analyse raisonnée, scène par ..., Том 1
Полный просмотр - 1828
Essais littéraires sur Shakspeare ou analyse raisonnée, scène par ..., Том 2
Полный просмотр - 1828
ACTE aime amant amis amour ANGELO Antoine Antonio arrive assez aurait belle bouffon Brutus caractère cause César charge chercher Claudio Cléopâtre Coriolan côté coup cour d'amour d'être demande dernier devant dire doit donner enfin épouse Falstaff femme fille fils finit force forme frère génie good Grecs have Hélène Henri homme ISABELLA j'ai jeune jouer jour juge Julie justice l'autre l'un laisse lettre love lui-même main Maison maître mari Mesure monde montre mort nouvelle nuit Palais paraît parler passer peine pendant père personnages pièce place PORCIA porte prend présente prince qu'un refuse reine rend rendre reste rien Romains Rome s'est s'il SCÈNE PREMIÈRE SCÈNE QUATRIÈME SCÈNE SECONDE SCÈNE TROISIÈME secrets seigneurs semble sentiments serait servir seul Shakspeare SHYLOCK sort sujet tête thou Timon traits trouve Venise veut vient voit voyant vrai yeux your
Стр. 378 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ; With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side'; His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound...
Стр. 124 - Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
Стр. 43 - 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, And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Стр. 378 - And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Стр. 37 - 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? O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason.
Стр. 43 - 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. 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...
Стр. 133 - Tarry a little; there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are "a pound of flesh:" Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh: But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate Unto the state of Venice.
Стр. 351 - Even here undone ! I was not much afeard ; for once, or twice, I was about to speak, and tell him plainly, The selfsame sun that shines upon his court, Hides not his visage from our cottage, but Looks on alike.
Стр. 74 - 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...
Стр. 364 - The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean.