Macbeth ; Poems and sonnets. GlossaryBradbury, Agnew, and Company, 1867 |
No interior do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 31
Página 64
... Son . If he were dead , you'd weep for him : if you would not , it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father . L. Macd . Poor prattler ! how thou talkest ! Enter a Messenger . Mess . Bless you , fair 64 ACT IV . MACBETH .
... Son . If he were dead , you'd weep for him : if you would not , it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father . L. Macd . Poor prattler ! how thou talkest ! Enter a Messenger . Mess . Bless you , fair 64 ACT IV . MACBETH .
Página 66
... Weep our sad bosoms empty . Let us , rather , Macd . Hold fast the mortal sword ; and , like good men , Bestride our down - fallen birthdom . Each new morn , New widows howl ; new orphans cry ; new sorrows Strike heaven on the face ...
... Weep our sad bosoms empty . Let us , rather , Macd . Hold fast the mortal sword ; and , like good men , Bestride our down - fallen birthdom . Each new morn , New widows howl ; new orphans cry ; new sorrows Strike heaven on the face ...
Página 67
... weeps , it bleeds : and each new day a gash Is added to her wounds : I think , withal , There would be hands uplifted in my right ; And here , from gracious England , have I offer Of goodly thousands : but , for all this , When I shall ...
... weeps , it bleeds : and each new day a gash Is added to her wounds : I think , withal , There would be hands uplifted in my right ; And here , from gracious England , have I offer Of goodly thousands : but , for all this , When I shall ...
Página 93
... weeping morn , Rose - cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase ; Hunting he loved , but love he laugh'd to scorn ; Sick - thoughted Venus makes amain unto him , And like a bold - faced suitor ' gins to woo him . " Thrice fairer than myself ...
... weeping morn , Rose - cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase ; Hunting he loved , but love he laugh'd to scorn ; Sick - thoughted Venus makes amain unto him , And like a bold - faced suitor ' gins to woo him . " Thrice fairer than myself ...
Página 101
... weeps , and now she fain would speak , And now her sobs do her intendments break . Sometimes she shakes her head , and then his hand , Now gazeth she on him , now on the ground ; Sometimes her arms infold him like a band : She would ...
... weeps , and now she fain would speak , And now her sobs do her intendments break . Sometimes she shakes her head , and then his hand , Now gazeth she on him , now on the ground ; Sometimes her arms infold him like a band : She would ...
Palavras e frases frequentes
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
Passagens conhecidas
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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!
Página 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...