Shakespeare's Works, Band 14

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Harper & brothers, 1884

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Seite 60 - 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 233 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, — A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Seite 120 - Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : — But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up...
Seite 52 - She:d come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse : which I observing, Took once a pliant hour, and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not intentively.
Seite 61 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood, 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...
Seite 71 - God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other: As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' When they did say 'God bless us!
Seite 71 - Methought I heard a voice cry " Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried "Sleep no more!" to all the house: "Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more: Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Seite 56 - tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's In deepest consequence.
Seite 165 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
Seite 59 - 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.

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