The Temple Shakespeare, 36. kötet

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J.M. Dent and Company, 1896

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27. oldal - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores And make a sop of all this solid globe: Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead: Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
27. oldal - 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 every thing includes itself in power, Power into will, will into appetite; And appetite, an universal wolf, So doubly seconded with will and power, Must make perforce an universal prey, And last eat up himself.
90. oldal - 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...
52. oldal - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
91. oldal - Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax ; Since things in motion sooner catch the eye Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee, And still it might, and yet it may again, If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive And case thy reputation in thy tent...
26. oldal - When that the general is not like the hive 81 To whom the foragers shall all repair, What honey is expected ? Degree being vizarded, >--The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre, Observe degree, priority and place...
92. oldal - Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. There is a mystery (with whom relation § Durst never meddle) in the soul of state ; Which hath an operation more divine, Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to...
118. oldal - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
125. oldal - I must not believe you. There they stand yet; and modestly I think The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost A drop of Grecian blood. The end crowns all; And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.
47. oldal - But value dwells not in particular will ; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer...

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