Choice Literature, Book 7American Book Company., 1912 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 16
Page 417
... LUCIUS , DARDANIUS , servants to Brutus . PINDARUS , servant to Cassius . CALPURNIA , wife of Cæsar . PORTIA , wife of Brutus . Senators , Citizens , Guards , Attend- ants , etc. SCENE . - During a great part of the Play , at ROME ...
... LUCIUS , DARDANIUS , servants to Brutus . PINDARUS , servant to Cassius . CALPURNIA , wife of Cæsar . PORTIA , wife of Brutus . Senators , Citizens , Guards , Attend- ants , etc. SCENE . - During a great part of the Play , at ROME ...
Page 437
... Lucius ! Ho ! - I cannot , by the progress of the stars , Give guess how near to day . — Lucius , I say ! — I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly . - When , Lucius , when ? Awake , I say ! What , Lucius ! Enter LUCIUS Luc ...
... Lucius ! Ho ! - I cannot , by the progress of the stars , Give guess how near to day . — Lucius , I say ! — I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly . - When , Lucius , when ? Awake , I say ! What , Lucius ! Enter LUCIUS Luc ...
Page 438
... LUCIUS Luc . The taper burneth in your closet , sir . Searching the window for a flint , I found This paper thus sealed up , and I am sure It did not lie there when I went to bed . [ Gives him the letter . Bru . Get you to bed again ...
... LUCIUS Luc . The taper burneth in your closet , sir . Searching the window for a flint , I found This paper thus sealed up , and I am sure It did not lie there when I went to bed . [ Gives him the letter . Bru . Get you to bed again ...
Page 439
... LUCIUS Luc . Sir , March is wasted fifteen days . [ Knocking within . Bru . ' Tis good . Go to the gate ; somebody knocks.— [ Exit LUCIUS . Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar I have not slept . Between the acting of a ...
... LUCIUS Luc . Sir , March is wasted fifteen days . [ Knocking within . Bru . ' Tis good . Go to the gate ; somebody knocks.— [ Exit LUCIUS . Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar I have not slept . Between the acting of a ...
Page 440
... LUCIUS . They are the faction . O Conspiracy ! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night , When evils are most free ? O , then , by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none ...
... LUCIUS . They are the faction . O Conspiracy ! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night , When evils are most free ? O , then , by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alba Longa ALFRED TENNYSON arms Bass Bassanio battle blood blow born brave breast breath Brutus Cæsar carronade Casca Cassius clouds Clusium cuirassiers dark dead death doth ducats earth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fear fire Genappe Gilliatt give Gratiano hand hark hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honor Horatius Jessica Julius Cæsar King Lars Porsena Laun Launcelot light live look lord Lorenzo Lucilius Lucius Mark Antony Messala Nerissa never night noble o'er Octavius octopus Old Glory Portia pray ring Roman Rome Sail Salar shalt ship Shylock smile song soul sound spake speak spirit stand star-spangled banner stood sweet sword tell thee thine things THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY thou art thought thousand thrice Titinius to-day turned unto Venice wave weather WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE wind
Popular passages
Page 188 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since : their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou ; Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Page 241 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well ; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Page 409 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus : Let no such man be trusted.
Page 472 - 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 123 - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat: Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
Page 326 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Page 233 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends And youths and maidens gay!
Page 475 - 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 248 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn. Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 325 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound.