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Seite 235 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Seite 284 - 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 ! — Give me my sword ; — „ Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch.
Seite 279 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
Seite 267 - 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!
Seite 266 - 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 279 - But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams, That shake us nightly...
Seite 252 - But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee!
Seite 260 - 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.