ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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الصفحة 139 - This guest of summer. The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath, Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, buttress, Nor coigne of vantage, but this bird hath made His pendent bed, and procreant cradle : Where they Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, the air Is delicate.
الصفحة 132 - 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...
الصفحة 147 - One cried, God bless us ! and, Amen, the other ; As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands, Listening their fear. I could not say, amen, When they did say, God bless us.
الصفحة 195 - The thane of Fife had a wife ; where is she now ? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? — No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that : you mar all with this starting.
الصفحة 266 - For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound ! Nay, hear me, Hubert ! drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not. stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly : Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
الصفحة 145 - Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still; And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before.
الصفحة 140 - 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.
الصفحة 199 - Cure her of that: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? Doct. Therein the patient Must minister to himself.
الصفحة 135 - 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.
الصفحة 141 - 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, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.