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" 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 !  "
The Shakespeare Phrase Book - 420. oldal
szerző: John Bartlett - 1881 - 1034 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

Truth, what is it? and opinion, what is it not?

Truth - 1840 - 160 oldal
...accordingly, we find Shakspeare thus expressing his sublime conceptions :— ' 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.' MACBETH. Sir Walter Scott, also,...

The plays and poems of Shakespeare, according to the improved text ..., 6. kötet

William Shakespeare - 1842
...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, And pall 3 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 ! '—Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor...

Knight's Cabinet edition of the works of William Shakspere, 9. kötet

William Shakespeare - 1843
...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 ! " Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor...

The Plays of William Shakspeare: Comedy of errors ; Macbeth ; King John ...

William Shakespeare, Alexander Chalmers - 1847
...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 ; 5 The raven himself is hoarse,} The following is, in my opinion, the sense of this passage : Give...

Sketch of the life of Shakespeare. Tempest. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Merry ...

William Shakespeare - 1848
...ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief I 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 .'—Great Glamis, worthy Caw...

Macbeth: A Cragedy in Five Acts

William Shakespeare - 1848 - 60 oldal
...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!"— Enter MACBETH, L. Great Glamis...

THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE

1850
...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, And pall3 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,4 To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor...

The dramatic (poetical) works of William Shakspeare; illustr ..., 3. kötet

William Shakespeare - 1850
...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall 3 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, 4 To cry, Hold, hold! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor!...

The New American Speaker: A Collection of Oratorical and Dramatical Pieces ...

John Celivergos Zachos - 1851 - 552 oldal
...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 1 hold 1 " SHAKSPEABI CATO'S SOLILOQUY...

The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: With a Life of the Poet, and ...

William Shakespeare - 1851
...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 ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor...




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