The Plays, Volum 4Otridge & Rackham, 1824 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 24.
Pàgina 186
... Macd . Was it so late , friend , ere you went to bed , That you do lie so late ? Port . ' Faith , sir , we were carousing till the se- cond cock and drink , sir , is a great provoker of three things . Macd . What three things does drink ...
... Macd . Was it so late , friend , ere you went to bed , That you do lie so late ? Port . ' Faith , sir , we were carousing till the se- cond cock and drink , sir , is a great provoker of three things . Macd . What three things does drink ...
Pàgina 187
... Macd . Is the king stirring , worthy thane ? Macb . Not yet . Macd . He did command me to call timely on him ; I have almost slipp'd the hour . Macb . I'll bring you to him . Macd . I know , this is a joyful trouble to you ; But yet ...
... Macd . Is the king stirring , worthy thane ? Macb . Not yet . Macd . He did command me to call timely on him ; I have almost slipp'd the hour . Macb . I'll bring you to him . Macd . I know , this is a joyful trouble to you ; But yet ...
Pàgina 188
... Macd . Approach the chamber , and destroy your sight With a new Gorgon : -Do not bid me speak ; See , and then speak yourselves . - Awake ! awake ! - [ Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox . Ring the alarum - bell : -Murder ! and treason ! Banquo ...
... Macd . Approach the chamber , and destroy your sight With a new Gorgon : -Do not bid me speak ; See , and then speak yourselves . - Awake ! awake ! - [ Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox . Ring the alarum - bell : -Murder ! and treason ! Banquo ...
Pàgina 189
... Macd . Your royal father's murder'd . Mal . O , by whom ? Len . Those of his chamber , as it seem'd , had done't : Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood , So were their daggers , which , unwip'd , we found Upon their pillows ...
... Macd . Your royal father's murder'd . Mal . O , by whom ? Len . Those of his chamber , as it seem'd , had done't : Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood , So were their daggers , which , unwip'd , we found Upon their pillows ...
Pàgina 191
... to the amazement of mine eyes , That look'd upon't . Here comes the good Mac- duff : Enter Macduff . How goes the world , sir , now ? Macd . Why , see you not ? Rosse . Is't known who did this more than bloody SCENE IV . ] 191 MACBETH .
... to the amazement of mine eyes , That look'd upon't . Here comes the good Mac- duff : Enter Macduff . How goes the world , sir , now ? Macd . Why , see you not ? Rosse . Is't known who did this more than bloody SCENE IV . ] 191 MACBETH .
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Antigonus Antipholus Arth Arthur attendants Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia breath brother Camillo Cawdor chain Cleomenes Const dead death deed didst Doct doth Dromio Duke England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France gentle give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione honour Hubert husband i'the James Gurney King John Lady Lady Macbeth Leon Leontes liege look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty master Melun mistress never noble o'er o'the Pand Pandulph Paul Paulina peace poison'd Polixenes poor pr'ythee pray prince queen Rosse SCENE shame Shep Sicilia Siward sleep soul speak swear sweet Syracusan Syracuse tell thane thee There's thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue villain wife Witch
Passatges populars
Pàgina 59 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, — a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one!
Pàgina 231 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Pàgina 181 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going, And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth...
Pàgina 209 - Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake : Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble ; Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Pàgina 323 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Pàgina 199 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale ! — Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Pàgina 170 - Cannot be ill ; cannot be good : — If ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth ? I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature ? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings : My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man, that function Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is, But what is not.
Pàgina 286 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Pàgina 178 - Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off: And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast...
Pàgina 223 - Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures; Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers ; and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction.