Shakespeare's Art: Studies on the Master Builder of Ideal Characters

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Robert Clarke Company, 1902 - 183 Seiten
 

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Seite 125 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, — Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! — It is the cause. — Yet I'll not shed her blood ; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Seite 40 - All causes shall give way ; I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er : Strange things I have in head, that will to hand ; Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.
Seite 41 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
Seite 90 - In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : It wearies me ; you say it wearies you ; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn ; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me. That I have much ado to know myself.
Seite 43 - Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them, and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.
Seite 38 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Seite 170 - 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 ? Bru.
Seite 169 - 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 honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Seite 25 - Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself...
Seite 116 - So please your grace, my ancient ; A man he is of honesty and trust : To his conveyance I assign my wife, With what else needful your good grace shall think To be sent after me. Duke. Let it be so. Good night to every one. To BRABANTIO. And, noble signior, If virtue no delighted beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black First Sen.

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