Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Adam Aler Alex ALEXAS Amboyna Antony Antony and Cleopatra Arim arms art thou ASMODAY Aureng-Zebe Beam BEAMONT bear beauty behold betray betwixt brave Cæsar CHARMION chuse Cleo Cleopatra command confess crime dare death DIANET Dola Dolabella Dryden Dutch Egypt emperor English Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fame farewell fate father favour fear fight Fisc foes forgive fortune give hand happy HARMAN haste hear heart heaven honour hope INDAMORA Iras Isab Isabinda JOHN DRYDEN kind king leave live look lord lost Lucif madam Melesinda Methinks mind mistress Morat nature ne'er never Nour o'er Octav Octavia pain passion pity pleased poet poetry praise queen Roman ruin scene scorn Serap shew sight slave soul speak stay sure tell thee thou thought Towerson twas twill Vent Ventidius virtue wish
Page 291 - Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them...
Page 408 - Thou best of thieves ; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves ; discharging so Death's dreadful office, better than himself; Touching our limbs so gently into slumber, That death stands by, deceived by his own image, And thinks himself but sleep.
Page 360 - With sceptred slaves, who waited to salute me? With eastern monarchs, who forgot the sun, To worship my uprising? Menial kings Ran coursing up and down my palace-yard...
Page 403 - I will not make a business of a trifle; And yet I cannot look on you, and kill you; Pray turn your face.
Page 337 - I've been too passionate. Vent. You thought me false; Thought my old age betrayed you. Kill me, sir; Pray, kill me; yet you need not, your unkindness Has left your sword no work. Ant. I did not think so; I said it in my rage: pr'ythee, forgive me. Why didst thou tempt my anger, by discovery Of what I would not hear?
Page 354 - My queen's not only innocent, but loves me. This, this is she, who drags me down to ruin! " But, could she scape without me, with what haste Would she let slip her hold, and make to shore, And never look behind ! " Down on thy knees, blasphemer as thou art, And ask forgiveness of wronged innocence.
Page 406 - Caesar's pride ? What! to be led in triumph through the streets, A spectacle to base plebeian eyes; While some dejected friend of Antony's, Close in a corner, shakes his head, and mutters A secret curse on her who ruined him?
Page 331 - Lie there, thou shadow of an emperor; The place thou pressest on thy mother earth Is all thy empire now: now it contains thee; Some few days hence, and then 'twill be too large, 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...