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bear better blood body bring CAPULET Cassio comes daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost doth earth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith fall Farewell father fear follow friar give gone grave Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honest Horatio hour I'll Iago Juliet keep King lady Laer Laertes leave light live look lord madam marry matter means mind Moor mother murder nature never night noble Nurse once Othello play poor pray prince Queen Roderigo Romeo SCENE Second seems seen sense shew soul speak stand stay sweet sword tell thee thing thou thou art thought to-night true Tybalt villain watch wife young
67. oldal - Hast ta'en with equal thanks : and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
81. oldal - Look here, upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow ; Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
66. oldal - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
123. oldal - tis not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all.
127. oldal - s yet some liquor left. Ham. As thou 'rt a man, Give me the cup : let go, by heaven I 'll have it. — O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me ! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
57. oldal - I have heard, That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
104. oldal - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul — Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! — It is the cause.
37. oldal - Twere now to be most happy; for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
93. oldal - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unused.