 | William Shakespeare - 1836 - 568 páginas
...thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was tfial cry? Sry. The queen, my lord, is dead. Mw.b. so inclined. MaL. With this, there grows, In my most...such A staunch less avarice, that, were I king, I s this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time:10 And all our yesterdays have... | |
 | William Graham (teacher of elocution.) - 1837 - 370 páginas
...slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Mad. She should have died hereafter ; There would have...dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1837 - 514 páginas
...Din-ness, familiar to my slaughl'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me.— Wherefore was that cry ? Sty. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should have...have been a time for such a word.— To-morrow, and to-morro-.v, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, Tu the last syllable of recorded... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1838 - 1130 páginas
...thoughts. Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry 1 Sey, The queen, my lord, is dead. Mar. lliam walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1839 - 536 páginas
...thoughts, Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. JM«c6. She should have died hereafter; There would have been...dusty death/' Out, out, brief candle } Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1839 - 572 páginas
...thoughts, Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry ? Scy. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should...such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, To the last syllable of recorded time ; l Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, And all our yesterdays... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1842 - 396 páginas
...have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord,...To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 584 páginas
...supped full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is...To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have... | |
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She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way... 
