Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth: Adapted Expressly for Madame Ristori and Her Italian Dramatic Company. [under the Management of J. Gray].: The Italian Translation by Sig. Giulio Carcano

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Metropolitan Printing and Engraving Estab., 1875
 

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Strana 5 - Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Strana 28 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Strana 10 - 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.
Strana 2 - Things that do sound so fair? — 1' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show ? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal ; to me you speak not ; If you can look into the seeds of time, And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, (1) A man forbid, — one under a curse, accursed.
Strana 6 - 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 't.
Strana 7 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : if the assassination 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.
Strana 14 - 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.
Strana 12 - The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — LADY M. What do you mean ? MACB. Still it cried ' Sleep no more !' to all the house : ' Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Strana 28 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Strana 4 - 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...

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