The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare, 11. kötet

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R. C. and J. Rivington, 1821
 

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40. oldal - Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not: If you can look into the seeds of time, And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear, Your favours, nor your hate.
170. oldal - Blood hath been shed ere now, i the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal ; Ay, and since too, murthers have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear : the times have been, That when the brains were out the man would die, And there an end : but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns, And push us from our stools : This is more strange Than such a murther is.
95. oldal - 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.
242. oldal - The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What! will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
52. oldal - Highness' pardon and set forth A deep repentance. Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, As 'twere a careless trifle.
242. oldal - To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand ; What's done, cannot be undone : To bed, to bed, to bed.
272. oldal - And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee. MACDUFF: Then yield thee, coward; And live to be the show and gaze o
46. oldal - tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence Cousins, a word, . I pray you.
83. oldal - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
96. oldal - 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 marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...