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Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Antenor Apem Apemantus Athens Aufidins bear beseech blood bronght Calchas canse cardinal Cham Coriolanus Cres Cressid Crom Deiphobus Diomed dost doth duke enongh Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fanlt Farewell fear fellow Flav fool friends Gent give gods grace Grecian hate hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour i'the Kath king king's lady Lart look lord Lord Chamberlain madam Marcins Menelans Menenins ne'er never noble o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pr'ythee pray Priam prince prond queen Rome SCENE senate Serv Servant Sir Thomas Lovell soul speak stand sweet sword tell thank thee Ther there's Thersites thine thing thongh thou art thou hast Timon to't tongue Troilus Trojan Troy true trumpet Ulyss voices What's words worthy yon'll
Strona 173 - Take the instant way, For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast ; keep, then, the path ; For Emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue ; if you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost.
Strona 281 - Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Strona 70 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Strona 130 - Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then...
Strona 70 - 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.
Strona 104 - Her own shall bless her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her; In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
Strona 173 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Strona 72 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Strona 401 - I loved the maid I married ; never man Sigh'd truer breath ; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing ! more dances my rapt heart Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold.
Strona 425 - What have you done ? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother ! O ! You have won a happy victory to Rome ; But, for your son, — believe it, O, believe it, — Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, If not most mortal to him.