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The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal, Volume 10
Visualização integral - 1837
The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal, Volume 44
Visualização integral - 1854
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Página 48 - We give thee hearty thanks, for that it hath pleased thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this sinful world...
Página 390 - And thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assurance of thy life. In the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were even ! and at even thou shalt say, Would God it were morning! for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see.
Página 282 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Página 282 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Página 282 - 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...
Página 282 - 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?
Página 313 - I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Página 282 - 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...
Página 284 - Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time 'to do't. — Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? — No more o...