The Plays of William Shakspeare: Comedy of errors ; Macbeth ; King John ; King Richard II ; King Henry IV, part 1

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الصفحة 232 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
الصفحة 93 - 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...
الصفحة 99 - 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, Striding the blast...
الصفحة 132 - Too terrible for the ear. 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.
الصفحة 485 - When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound; But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough.
الصفحة 98 - 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.
الصفحة 140 - Witch 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.
الصفحة 133 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! Let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with ! Lady M.
الصفحة 127 - 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.
الصفحة 87 - This supernatural soliciting 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...

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