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The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ...
Sin vista previa disponible - 2016
The Plays of William Shakspeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ...
Sin vista previa disponible - 2013
The Plays of William Shakspeare: Accurately Printed from the Text ..., Volumen1
William Shakespeare,George Steevens
Sin vista previa disponible - 2019
Antigonus Antipholus art thou Arth Arthur Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia breath brother Camillo Cawdor chain Cleomenes Const dead death deed didst Doct dost doth Dromio Duke England Enter Ephesus Ereunt Erit eyes fair father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France Gent gentle give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hermione honour Hubert husband i'the James Gurney John king King John Lady Lady MACBETH Leon Leontes look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff master Melun mistress never night noble o'er o'the Pand Paul Paulina peace poison'd Polixenes pray prince queen Rosse SCENE shame Shep Sicilia sleep soul speak swear sweet Syracuse tell thane thee There's thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue villain wife Witch
Página 221 - 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?
Página 212 - Yet do I fear thy nature : It is too full o' the milk of human kindness. To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition ; but without The illness should attend it : what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win : thou 'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries, " Thus thou must do. if thou have it ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Than wishest should be undone.
Página 391 - O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Página 217 - He's here in double trust ; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed ; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead, like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off ; And pity, like a naked new-born babe.
Página 213 - 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 ! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief...
Página 211 - The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, 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.
Página 69 - Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : This is an art Which does mend nature, — change it rather: but The art itself is nature.
Página 225 - Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; For it must seem their guilt.
Página 208 - 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...