Macbeth: A Tragedy in Five ActsWm. Taylor & Company, 1847 - 60 pages |
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1st Offi 1st Spir 1st Witch 2d Spir 2d Witch 4th Spir Birnam wood bleed blood Chor Chorus of WITCHES crown dagger dare death deed dress END OF ACT Enter LADY MACBETH Enter MACBETH Enter MACDUFF Enter MALCOLM Enter SEYTON Exeunt Exit Seyton eyes fear Flourish of Trumpets fly by night Garrick Gates Gent Give Glamis hail hand HARVARD COLLEGE hast hath hear heart Heaven Hecate honour horror i'the is't keep kelt King of Scotland knocking Lightning look lord Macb Macd Mach murder night noble Palace plaid vest rejoice Rosse SCENE IV.-The Scone shalt SIWARD sleep soldier speak spirits strange sword tartan Tattler Thane of Cawdor thee There's thine things thither thou art thought Three WITCHES Thunder to-morrow to-night Trumpets and Drums Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt tyrant weird sisters What's wife worthy Thane would'st
Popular passages
Page 23 - Who was it that thus cried ? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things : — Go, get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. — Why did you bring these daggers from -the place ? They must lie there : go carry them ; and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.
Page 11 - 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?
Page 17 - 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.
Page 18 - 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, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 53 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Page 38 - I pray you, speak not ; he grows worse and worse ; Question enrages him : at once, good night : — Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
Page 50 - 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?
Page 43 - That will never be : Who can impress the forest ; bid the tree Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodements! good!
Page 14 - Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised : yet do I fear thy nature; \ It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way...
Page 11 - New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use.