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Antigonus AUTOLYCUS Banquo BERTRAM better blood Bohemia Camillo CLEOMENES Clown Count daughter death dost Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear Fleance fool Gent gentleman give hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione honest honour Illyria in't is't JOHNSON king knave lady Lady MACBETH LAFEU Leontes look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff madam maid MALONE Malvolio marry means mistress murder Narbon nature never night noble Olivia Parolles Paul Paulina play Polixenes poor pr'ythee pray queen Re-enter Rosse Rousillon SCENE servant Shakespeare Shep Sicilia Sir ANDREW Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH sleep speak STEEVENS swear sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought to't WARBURTON weird sisters wife Winter's Tale Witch woman word
Page 289 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Page 317 - Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake : Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. All. Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. 3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf : Witches...
Page 285 - 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. But in these cases We still have judgment here ; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor ; this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips.
Page 305 - Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing Can touch him further.
Page 286 - 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.
Page 224 - A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that ; move still, still so, And own no other function : each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens.
Page 64 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Page 296 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys : renown, and grace, is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
Page 281 - 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! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it!