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Seite 454 - 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 murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Seite 335 - If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. Ban. New honours come upon him Like our strange garments ; cleave not to their mould. But with the aid of use. Macb. Come what come may ; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Seite 343 - 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 521 - Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie ! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?
Seite 371 - If we should fail? Lady M. We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep — Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him — his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only...
Seite 368 - 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.
Seite 338 - Implored your 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 owed As 'twere a careless trifle. DUN. There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.
Seite 476 - 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. All. Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. 3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf : Witches...
Seite 380 - 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?