The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Volum 3American book exchange, 1881 |
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Side 223
William Shakespeare. How goes the world , sir , now ? Macd . Why , see you not ? Ross . Is't known who did this more than bloody deed ? Macd . Those that Macbeth hath slain . Ross . What good could they pretend ? Macd . Alas , the day ...
William Shakespeare. How goes the world , sir , now ? Macd . Why , see you not ? Ross . Is't known who did this more than bloody deed ? Macd . Those that Macbeth hath slain . Ross . What good could they pretend ? Macd . Alas , the day ...
Side 239
... Macd . What had he done , to make him fly the land ? Ross . You must have patience , madam . L. Macd . He had none : His flight was madness : when our actions do not , Our fears do make us traitors . Ross . You know not Whether it ...
... Macd . What had he done , to make him fly the land ? Ross . You must have patience , madam . L. Macd . He had none : His flight was madness : when our actions do not , Our fears do make us traitors . Ross . You know not Whether it ...
Side 240
... Macd . Wisdom ! to leave his wife , to leave his babes , His mansion and his titles in a place From whence himself ... Macd . Father'd he is , and yet he's fatherless . Ross . I am so much a fool , should I stay longer , It would ...
... Macd . Wisdom ! to leave his wife , to leave his babes , His mansion and his titles in a place From whence himself ... Macd . Father'd he is , and yet he's fatherless . Ross . I am so much a fool , should I stay longer , It would ...
Side 241
... Macd . Why , one that swears and lies . Son . And be all traitors that do so ? L. Macd . Every one that does so is a traitor , and must be hanged . Son . And must they all be hanged that swear and lie ? L. Macd . Every one . Son ...
... Macd . Why , one that swears and lies . Son . And be all traitors that do so ? L. Macd . Every one that does so is a traitor , and must be hanged . Son . And must they all be hanged that swear and lie ? L. Macd . Every one . Son ...
Side 242
... Macd . Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword , and like good men Bestride our down - fall'n birthdom : each new morn New widows howl , new orphans cry , new sorrows Strike heaven on the face , that it resounds As if it felt with ...
... Macd . Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword , and like good men Bestride our down - fall'n birthdom : each new morn New widows howl , new orphans cry , new sorrows Strike heaven on the face , that it resounds As if it felt with ...
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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Volum 3 William Shakespeare Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1872 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Alcibiades Antony Apem Apemantus art thou Banquo better blood Brutus Cæsar Casca Cassio Cleo CYMBELINE daughter dead dear death Desdemona doth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes farewell father fear fool fortune friends Gent gentleman give Glou gods grief GUIDERIUS Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Iach Iago is't Kent king knave L's L's lady Laer Laertes Lear live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd madam Mark Antony married master Merry Wives Michael Cassio mistress ne'er never night noble Nurse Othello Pericles Polonius Pompey poor pray prithee queen Re-enter Romeo SCENE sleep soul speak sweet sword tell Temp thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Timon Titinius to-night Tybalt villain What's wilt Wint word
Populære avsnitt
Side 298 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep...
Side 310 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ. Yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
Side 179 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man That love my friend, and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech To stir men's blood.
Side 299 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels * bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after...
Side 388 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely : touch me with noble anger ! And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks !— No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things — What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Side 290 - I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Side 303 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Side 265 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly : these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within which passeth show ; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Side 251 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf ; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Side 141 - O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in her concave shores?