againſt anſwer Autolycus Banquo becauſe beſt Bohemia buſineſs Camillo Clown Count defire Duke Enter Exeunt Exit expreffion eyes faid fame fatire fear feems fenfe fervant ferve fhall fhew fhould fifter fignifies fince Fleance fleep foldier fome fomething fool fpeak fpeech ftand ftill fuch fuppofe fure fwear fweet give hath heaven himſelf honour houſe i'the Illyria itſelf JOHNSON King lady lefs loft lord Macbeth Macd Macduff Mach madam mafter Malvolio means miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Narbon night o'the obferve occafion paffage perfon pleaſe pr'ythee pray prefent purpoſe queen reafon Roffe ſay SCENE Shakeſpeare ſhall ſhe Shep Sir Toby ſpeak STEEVENS Thane thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art thought ufed underſtand uſe WARBURTON whofe wife Witch word
Página 330 - By bud of nobler race: this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Página 417 - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters : — to beguile the time, Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
Página 268 - That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing; The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing.
Página 466 - 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.
Página 425 - If we should fail? Lady M. We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep — Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him — his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only...
Página 428 - 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 407 - New honours come upon him Like our strange garments ; cleave not to their mould. But with the aid of use. Macb. Come what come may ; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Página 460 - Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!— Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse...