Shakspeare's Tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra: With Alterations, and with Additions from Dryden |
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4 ÆäÀÌÁö - Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall ! Here is my space. Kingdoms are clay : our dungy earth alike Feeds beast as man : the nobleness of life Is to do thus ; when such a mutual pair [Embracing.
3 ÆäÀÌÁö - NAY, but this dotage of our general's O'erflows the measure : those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front...
6 ÆäÀÌÁö - Show'd us that France had something to admire. Not but the Tragic spirit was our own, And full in Shakespear, fair in Otway shone: But Otway fail'd to polish or refine, And fluent Shakespear scarce effac'da line.
53 ÆäÀÌÁö - Why should they fight indeed, to make her conquer, And make you more a slave ? to gain you kingdoms, Which, for a kiss, at your next midnight feast, You'll sell to her ? Then she new-names her jewels, And calls this diamond such or such a tax; Each pendant in her ear shall be a province.
29 ÆäÀÌÁö - I will be justified in all I do To late posterity, and therefore hear me. If I mix a lie With any truth, reproach me freely with it; Else, favour me with silence.
69 ÆäÀÌÁö - This shows not well above. Then what am I, The murderer of this truth, this innocence ! Thoughts cannot form themselves in words so horrid As can express my guilt!
33 ÆäÀÌÁö - I'll rather die, than take it. Will you go ? Ant. Go ! whither ? Go from all that's excellent ? Faith, honour, virtue, all good things forbid, That I should go from her, who sets my love Above the price of kingdoms...
68 ÆäÀÌÁö - Now dipt from every bank, now smoothly run To meet the foe; and soon indeed they met, But not as foes. In few, we saw their caps On either side thrown up; the Egyptian g-alleys, Received like friends, passed through, and fell behind The Roman rear; and now, they all come forward, And ride within the port. Cleo. Enough, Serapion : I've heard my doom.— This needed not, you gods: When I lost Antony, your work was done; 'Tis but superfluous malice.
49 ÆäÀÌÁö - When thou'rt contracted in thy narrow urn, Shrunk to a few cold ashes; then Octavia (For Cleopatra will not live to see it), Octavia then will have thee all her own, And bear thee in her...