The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens, Esq. ; with Glossarial Notes, Band 4J. Johnson, 1803 |
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Seite 229
... 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 second 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 second cock and drink , sir , is a great provoker of three things . Macd . What three things does drink ...
Seite 230
... Macd . I believe , drink gave thee the lie last night . Port . That it did , sir , i'the very throat o'me : But I ... Macd . Is thy master stirring ? Our knocking has awak'd him ; here he comes . Enter MACBETH . Len . Good - morrow ...
... Macd . I believe , drink gave thee the lie last night . Port . That it did , sir , i'the very throat o'me : But I ... Macd . Is thy master stirring ? Our knocking has awak'd him ; here he comes . Enter MACBETH . Len . Good - morrow ...
Seite 231
... Macd . O horror ! horror ! horror ! Tongue , nor heart , Cannot conceive , nor name thee ! 2 Macb . Len . What's the matter ? Macd . Confusion now hath made his masterpiece ! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed ...
... Macd . O horror ! horror ! horror ! Tongue , nor heart , Cannot conceive , nor name thee ! 2 Macb . Len . What's the matter ? Macd . Confusion now hath made his masterpiece ! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed ...
Seite 232
... Macd . - O , gentle lady , ' Tis not for you to hear what I can speak : The repetition , in a woman's ear , Would murder as it fell . - O Banquo ! Banquo ! Enter BANQUO . Our royal master's murder'd ! Lady M. What , in our house ? Ban ...
... Macd . - O , gentle lady , ' Tis not for you to hear what I can speak : The repetition , in a woman's ear , Would murder as it fell . - O Banquo ! Banquo ! Enter BANQUO . Our royal master's murder'd ! Lady M. What , in our house ? Ban ...
Seite 233
... 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 ...
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Antigonus Antipholus art thou Arth Arthur AUTOLYCUS Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia breath brother Camillo Cawdor chain CLEOMENES Const dead death deed didst Doct dost doth Dromio Duke England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France Gent gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione honour Hubert husband i'the James Gurney King JOHN Lady Lady MACBETH Leon Leontes look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty master mistress never night noble o'er o'the Pand PANDULPH Paul Paulina peace Polixenes poor pr'ythee pray prince queen Rosse SCENE shame Shep Sicilia Siward sleep soul speak swear sweet Syracuse tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue villain wife Witch
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 223 - 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?
Seite 214 - Yet do I fear thy nature : It is too full o' the milk of human kindness. To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition ; but without The illness should attend it : what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win : thou 'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries, " Thus thou must do. if thou have it ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Than wishest should be undone.
Seite 393 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — 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.
Seite 219 - He's here in double trust ; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed ; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan 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.
Seite 215 - Stop up the access and passage to remorse ; > That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect, and it ! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief...
Seite 213 - The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Seite 71 - Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : This is an art Which does mend nature, — change it rather: but The art itself is nature.
Seite 227 - Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; For it must seem their guilt.
Seite 210 - 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...
Seite 219 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.