Shakespeare's Macbeth

American Book Company, 1910 - 112 Seiten

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Seite 62 - 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.
Seite 27 - Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear ; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Seite 83 - Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy ; And sundry blessings hang about his throne, That speak him full of grace.
Seite 31 - But in these cases We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips.
Seite 88 - 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.
Seite 34 - tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven, Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose!
Seite 22 - 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.
Seite 24 - Implor'd 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 ow'd, As 'twere a careless trifle.
Seite 20 - Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. [Witches vanish. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.
Seite 22 - This supernatural soliciting 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...

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