Macbeth ; Poems and sonnets. GlossaryBradbury, Agnew, and Company, 1867 |
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Сторінка 72
... grief ? Rosse . That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker ; Each minute teems a new one . Macd . Rosse . Why , well . Macd . Rosse . How does my wife ? Well too . And all my children ? Macd . The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ...
... grief ? Rosse . That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker ; Each minute teems a new one . Macd . Rosse . Why , well . Macd . Rosse . How does my wife ? Well too . And all my children ? Macd . The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ...
Сторінка 73
... grief , Due to some single breast ? Rosse . No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe ; though the main part Pertains to you alone . Macd . If it be mine , Keep it not from me , quickly let me have it . Rosse . Let not your ears ...
... grief , Due to some single breast ? Rosse . No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe ; though the main part Pertains to you alone . Macd . If it be mine , Keep it not from me , quickly let me have it . Rosse . Let not your ears ...
Сторінка 74
... grief . Macd . He has no children . - All my pretty ones ? Did you say , all ? -O , hell - kite ! —All ? What , all my pretty chickens , and their dam , At one fell swoop ? Mal . Dispute it like a man . Macd . I shall do so ; But I must ...
... grief . Macd . He has no children . - All my pretty ones ? Did you say , all ? -O , hell - kite ! —All ? What , all my pretty chickens , and their dam , At one fell swoop ? Mal . Dispute it like a man . Macd . I shall do so ; But I must ...
Сторінка 118
... grief , and hang the head . " What should I do , seeing thee so indeed , That tremble at the imagination ? The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed , And fear doth teach it divination : I prophesy thy death , my living sorrow ...
... grief , and hang the head . " What should I do , seeing thee so indeed , That tremble at the imagination ? The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed , And fear doth teach it divination : I prophesy thy death , my living sorrow ...
Сторінка 119
... grief may be compared well To one sore sick that hears the passing - bell . " Then shalt thou see the dew - bedabbled wretch Turn , and return , indenting with the way ; Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch , Each shadow makes ...
... grief may be compared well To one sore sick that hears the passing - bell . " Then shalt thou see the dew - bedabbled wretch Turn , and return , indenting with the way ; Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch , Each shadow makes ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adonis art thou Banquo bear beauty beauty's behold birds blood breast breath cheeks Collatine dead dear death deed desire Doct doth Enter MACBETH Exeunt face fair fair lords falchion falconry false fear fire Fleance flower fool foul gainst gentle give grace grief hand hast hate hath hear heart heaven honour hour king kiss LADY MACBETH light lips live look lord love's Lucrece lust Macb Macd Macduff Mach mayst mind murder never night numbers o'er pale pity poison'd poor praise Priam proud quoth RAPE OF LUCRECE Rosse seem'd Sextus Tarquinius shalt shame sighs sight SIWARD sleep sorrow soul speak swear sweet Tarquin tears Tereu thane of Cawdor thee thence thine eye things thou art thou dost thought thyself Time's tongue true truth unto weep weird sisters wind Witch words worth wound youth
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Сторінка 219 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Сторінка 19 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come.
Сторінка 16 - 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...
Сторінка 241 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Сторінка 49 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere human statute purged the gentle weal ; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear ; 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 : this is more strange Than such a murder is.
Сторінка 308 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields. A honey tongue, a heart of gall Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
Сторінка 220 - I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's...
Сторінка 15 - 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.— Enter an Attendant.
Сторінка 16 - The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering 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!
Сторінка 219 - When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate...