Shakspere's Macbeth

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Longmans, Green & Company, 1896 - Всего страниц: 200
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Стр. 19 - Wherein you dress'd yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," Like the poor cat i
Стр. 19 - Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both. They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me...
Стр. 39 - But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams, That shake us nightly...
Стр. 24 - One cried, God bless us ! and, Amen, the other ; As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands, Listening their fear. I could not say, amen, When they did say, God bless us.
Стр. 46 - I pray you, speak not ; he grows worse and worse ; Question enrages him : at once, good night : — > Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
Стр. 15 - The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry ' Hold, hold !
Стр. 22 - 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.
Стр. 15 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty!
Стр. 10 - 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...
Стр. 35 - Reigns that which would be fear'd : 'tis much he dares ; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety.

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