Shakespeare's Macbeth

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Maynard, Merrill, 1899 - 220 頁
 

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第 59 頁 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires ! Let not light see my black and deep desires. The eye wink at the hand ! yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
第 69 頁 - Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, 121.
第 152 頁 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
第 67 頁 - 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.
第 105 頁 - 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.
第 141 頁 - 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' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
第 55 頁 - tis strange ! And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.
第 68 頁 - Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady M. Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress 'd yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou...
第 158 頁 - That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.
第 138 頁 - Merciful heaven ! — What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words : the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.

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