id stringlengths 16 16 | text stringlengths 151 2.3k | word_count int64 30 60 | source stringclasses 1 value |
|---|---|---|---|
twg_000000021700 | Is heavy in my tongue. The King your father PRINCESS. Dead, for my life! MARCAD. Even so. My tale is told. BEROWNE. Worthies away! The scene begins to cloud. ARMADO. For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [_Exeunt | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021701 | Worthies._] KING. How fares your Majesty? PRINCESS. Boyet, prepare. I will away tonight. KING. Madam, not so. I do beseech you stay. PRINCESS. Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords, For all your fair endeavours, and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide The liberal opposition of our spirits, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021702 | If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath; your gentleness Was guilty of it. Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue. Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtained. KING. The extreme parts of time extremely forms All causes to the purpose of his speed, And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021703 | often at his very loose decides That which long process could not arbitrate. And though the mourning brow of progeny Forbid the smiling courtesy of love The holy suit which fain it would convince, Yet, since loves argument was first on foot, Let not the cloud of sorrow jostle it From what it purposed; since to wail friends lost Is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021704 | not by much so wholesome-profitable As to rejoice at friends but newly found. PRINCESS. I understand you not. My griefs are double. BEROWNE. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief; And by these badges understand the King. For your fair sakes have we neglected time, Played foul play with our oaths. Your beauty, ladies, Hath much deformed us, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021705 | fashioning our humours Even to the opposed end of our intents; And what in us hath seemed ridiculous As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Formed by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021706 | every varied object in his glance; Which parti-coated presence of loose love Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes, Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities, Those heavenly eyes that look into these faults Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies, Our love being yours, the error that love makes Is likewise yours. We to ourselves prove false By being | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021707 | once false for ever to be true To those that make us bothfair ladies, you. And even that falsehood, in itself a sin, Thus purifies itself and turns to grace. PRINCESS. We have received your letters, full of love; Your favours, the ambassadors of love; And in our maiden council rated them At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy, As bombast | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021708 | and as lining to the time. But more devout than this in our respects Have we not been; and therefore met your loves In their own fashion, like a merriment. DUMAINE. Our letters, madam, showed much more than jest. LONGAVILLE. So did our looks. ROSALINE. We did not quote them so. KING. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021709 | Grant us your loves. PRINCESS. A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in. No, no, my lord, your Grace is perjured much, Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this: If for my loveas there is no such cause You will do aught, this shall you do for me: Your oath I will not trust, but go with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021710 | speed To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Remote from all the pleasures of the world, There stay until the twelve celestial signs Have brought about the annual reckoning. If this austere insociable life Change not your offer made in heat of blood; If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds, Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love, But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021711 | that it bear this trial, and last love; Then, at the expiration of the year, Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts, And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine, I will be thine. And, till that instance, shut My woeful self up in a mournful house, Raining the tears of lamentation For the remembrance of my fathers death. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021712 | If this thou do deny, let our hands part, Neither entitled in the others heart. KING. If this, or more than this, I would deny, To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, The sudden hand of death close up mine eye! Hence hermit, then. My heart is in thy breast. [_They converse apart_] DUMAINE. And what to me, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021713 | my love? But what to me? A wife? KATHARINE. A beard, fair health, and honesty; With threefold love I wish you all these three. DUMAINE. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? KATHARINE. No so, my lord. A twelvemonth and a day Ill mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say. Come when the King doth to my lady | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021714 | come; Then, if I have much love, Ill give you some. DUMAINE. Ill serve thee true and faithfully till then. KATHARINE. Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again. [_They converse apart_] LONGAVILLE. What says Maria? MARIA. At the twelvemonths end Ill change my black gown for a faithful friend. LONGAVILLE. Ill stay with patience, but the time is long. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021715 | MARIA. The liker you; few taller are so young. [_They converse apart_] BEROWNE. Studies my lady? Mistress, look on me. Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there. Impose some service on me for thy love. ROSALINE. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Berowne, Before I saw you; and the worlds | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021716 | large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks, Full of comparisons and wounding flouts, Which you on all estates will execute That lie within the mercy of your wit. To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, And therewithal to win me, if you please, Without the which I am not to be won, You shall this twelvemonth | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021717 | term from day to day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavour of your wit To enforce the pained impotent to smile. BEROWNE. To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be, it is impossible. Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. ROSALINE. Why, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021718 | thats the way to choke a gibing spirit, Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools. A jests prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. Then, if sickly ears, Deafed with the clamours of their own dear groans, Will hear your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021719 | idle scorns, continue then, And I will have you and that fault withal; But if they will not, throw away that spirit, And I shall find you empty of that fault, Right joyful of your reformation. BEROWNE. A twelvemonth? Well, befall what will befall, Ill jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. PRINCESS. [_To the King_.] Ay, sweet my lord, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021720 | so I take my leave. KING. No, madam, we will bring you on your way. BEROWNE. Our wooing doth not end like an old play. Jack hath not Jill. These ladies courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. KING. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, And then twill end. BEROWNE. Thats too long for a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021721 | play. Enter Armado, the Braggart. ARMADO. Sweet Majesty, vouchsafe me PRINCESS. Was not that Hector? DUMAINE. The worthy knight of Troy. ARMADO. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three year. But, most esteemed Greatness, will you hear the dialogue that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021722 | the two learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the end of our show. KING. Call them forth quickly; we will do so. ARMADO. Holla! Approach. Enter all. This side is _Hiems_, Winter; this _Ver_, the Spring; the one maintained by the owl, th other by the cuckoo. _Ver_, begin. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021723 | The Song SPRING. When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then on every tree Mocks married men; for thus sings he: Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo! O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmens | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021724 | clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo! O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. WINTER. When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021725 | And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipped, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl: Tu-whit, Tu-whoo! A merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parsons saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marians nose looks red and raw, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021726 | When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl: Tu-whit, Tu-whoo! A merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. ARMADO. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way, we this way. [_Exeunt._] THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH Contents ACT I Scene I. An open Place. Scene II. A Camp | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021727 | near Forres. Scene III. A heath. Scene IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace. Scene V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeths Castle. Scene VI. The same. Before the Castle. Scene VII. The same. A Lobby in the Castle. ACT II Scene I. Inverness. Court within the Castle. Scene II. The same. Scene III. The same. Scene IV. The same. Without | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021728 | the Castle. ACT III Scene I. Forres. A Room in the Palace. Scene II. The same. Another Room in the Palace. Scene III. The same. A Park or Lawn, with a gate leading to the Palace. Scene IV. The same. A Room of state in the Palace. Scene V. The heath. Scene VI. Forres. A Room in the Palace. ACT | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021729 | IV Scene I. A dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron Boiling. Scene II. Fife. A Room in Macduffs Castle. Scene III. England. Before the Kings Palace. ACT V Scene I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Scene II. The Country near Dunsinane. Scene III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Scene IV. Country near Dunsinane: a Wood in view. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021730 | Scene V. Dunsinane. Within the castle. Scene VI. The same. A Plain before the Castle. Scene VII. The same. Another part of the Plain. Scene VIII. The same. Another part of the field. Dramatis Person DUNCAN, King of Scotland. MALCOLM, his Son. DONALBAIN, his Son. MACBETH, General in the Kings Army. BANQUO, General in the Kings Army. MACDUFF, Nobleman of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021731 | Scotland. LENNOX, Nobleman of Scotland. ROSS, Nobleman of Scotland. MENTEITH, Nobleman of Scotland. ANGUS, Nobleman of Scotland. CAITHNESS, Nobleman of Scotland. FLEANCE, Son to Banquo. SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, General of the English Forces. YOUNG SIWARD, his Son. SEYTON, an Officer attending on Macbeth. BOY, Son to Macduff. An English Doctor. A Scottish Doctor. A Soldier. A Porter. An Old | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021732 | Man. LADY MACBETH. LADY MACDUFF. Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. HECATE, and three Witches. Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants and Messengers. The Ghost of Banquo and several other Apparitions. SCENE: In the end of the Fourth Act, in England; through the rest of the Play, in Scotland; and chiefly at Macbeths Castle. ACT I SCENE I. An open Place. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021733 | Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches. FIRST WITCH. When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? SECOND WITCH. When the hurlyburlys done, When the battles lost and won. THIRD WITCH. That will be ere the set of sun. FIRST WITCH. Where the place? SECOND WITCH. Upon the heath. THIRD WITCH. There to meet with Macbeth. FIRST | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021734 | WITCH. I come, Graymalkin! SECOND WITCH. Paddock calls. THIRD WITCH. Anon. ALL. Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A Camp near Forres. Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Captain. DUNCAN. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021735 | plight, of the revolt The newest state. MALCOLM. This is the sergeant Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought Gainst my captivity.Hail, brave friend! Say to the King the knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it. SOLDIER. Doubtful it stood; As two spent swimmers that do cling together And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald (Worthy to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021736 | be a rebel, for to that The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Showd like a rebels whore. But alls too weak; For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name), Disdaining Fortune, with his brandishd steel, Which smokd with bloody execution, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021737 | Like Valours minion, carvd out his passage, Till he facd the slave; Which neer shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseamd him from the nave to the chops, And fixd his head upon our battlements. DUNCAN. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! SOLDIER. As whence the sun gins his reflection Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, So from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021738 | that spring, whence comfort seemd to come Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour armd, Compelld these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbishd arms and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault. DUNCAN. Dismayd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? SOLDIER. Yes; As sparrows | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021739 | eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overchargd with double cracks; So they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorize another Golgotha, I cannot tell But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. DUNCAN. So well thy words become thee | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021740 | as thy wounds: They smack of honour both.Go, get him surgeons. [_Exit Captain, attended._] Enter Ross and Angus. Who comes here? MALCOLM. The worthy Thane of Ross. LENNOX. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange. ROSS. God save the King! DUNCAN. Whence camst thou, worthy thane? ROSS. From Fife, great | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021741 | King, Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold. Norway himself, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor, The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellonas bridegroom, lappd in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point, rebellious arm gainst arm, Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, The victory fell | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021742 | on us. DUNCAN. Great happiness! ROSS. That now Sweno, the Norways king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colmes Inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use. DUNCAN. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021743 | Macbeth. ROSS. Ill see it done. DUNCAN. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. A heath. Thunder. Enter the three Witches. FIRST WITCH. Where hast thou been, sister? SECOND WITCH. Killing swine. THIRD WITCH. Sister, where thou? FIRST WITCH. A sailors wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounchd, and mounchd, and mounchd. Give me, quoth | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021744 | I. Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husbands to Aleppo gone, master o th _Tiger:_ But in a sieve Ill thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, Ill do, Ill do, and Ill do. SECOND WITCH. Ill give thee a wind. FIRST WITCH. Thart kind. THIRD WITCH. And I another. FIRST WITCH. I myself have all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021745 | the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I the shipmans card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid; He shall live a man forbid. Weary sevn-nights nine times nine, Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine: Though his bark cannot be lost, Yet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021746 | it shall be tempest-tost. Look what I have. SECOND WITCH. Show me, show me. FIRST WITCH. Here I have a pilots thumb, Wrackd as homeward he did come. [_Drum within._] THIRD WITCH. A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come. ALL. The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021747 | and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace!the charms wound up. Enter Macbeth and Banquo. MACBETH. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. BANQUO. How far ist calld to Forres?What are these, So witherd, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o th earth, And yet are ont?Live | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021748 | you? or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips. You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. MACBETH. Speak, if you can;what are you? FIRST WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021749 | SECOND WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! THIRD WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter! BANQUO. Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair?I th name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021750 | 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, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate. FIRST WITCH. Hail! SECOND WITCH. Hail! THIRD | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021751 | WITCH. Hail! FIRST WITCH. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. SECOND WITCH. Not so happy, yet much happier. THIRD WITCH. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! FIRST WITCH. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! MACBETH. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more. By Sinels death I know I am Thane of Glamis; But how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021752 | of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting?Speak, I charge you. [_Witches vanish._] BANQUO. The earth hath bubbles, as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021753 | the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanishd? MACBETH. Into the air; and what seemd corporal, Melted as breath into the wind. Would they had stayd! BANQUO. Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? MACBETH. Your children shall be kings. BANQUO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021754 | You shall be king. MACBETH. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? BANQUO. To the selfsame tune and words. Whos here? Enter Ross and Angus. ROSS. The King hath happily receivd, Macbeth, The news of thy success, and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels fight, His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021755 | thine or his: silencd with that, In viewing oer the rest o th selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale Came post with post; and everyone did bear Thy praises in his kingdoms great defence, And pourd them down before him. ANGUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021756 | We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee. ROSS. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane, For it is thine. BANQUO. What, can the devil speak true? MACBETH. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021757 | Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrowd robes? ANGUS. Who was the Thane lives yet, But under heavy judgement bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combind With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both He labourd in his countrys wrack, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021758 | know not; But treasons capital, confessd and provd, Have overthrown him. MACBETH. [_Aside._] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind. [_To Ross and Angus._] Thanks for your pains. [_To Banquo._] Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me Promisd no less to them? BANQUO. That, trusted home, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021759 | Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But tis strange: And oftentimes to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betrays In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you. MACBETH. [_Aside._] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021760 | the imperial theme.I thank you, gentlemen. [_Aside._] 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021761 | Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings. My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smotherd in surmise, And nothing is but what is not. BANQUO. Look, how our partners rapt. MACBETH. [_Aside._] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me Without | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021762 | my stir. BANQUO. New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use. MACBETH. [_Aside._] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. BANQUO. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. MACBETH. Give me your favour. My dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021763 | gentlemen, your pains Are registerd where every day I turn The leaf to read them.Let us toward the King. Think upon what hath chancd; and at more time, The interim having weighd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. BANQUO. Very gladly. MACBETH. Till then, enough.Come, friends. [_Exeunt._] SCENE IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021764 | Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox and Attendants. DUNCAN. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet returnd? MALCOLM. My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke With one that saw him die, who did report, That very frankly he confessd his treasons, Implord your Highness pardon, and set forth A deep repentance. Nothing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021765 | in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he owd As twere a careless trifle. DUNCAN. Theres no art To find the minds construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust. Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021766 | and Angus. O worthiest cousin! The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before, That swiftest wing of recompense is slow To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deservd; That the proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been mine! only I have left to say, More is thy due than more | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021767 | than all can pay. MACBETH. The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honour. DUNCAN. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021768 | thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing.Noble Banquo, That hast no less deservd, nor must be known No less to have done so, let me infold thee And hold thee to my heart. BANQUO. There if I grow, The harvest is your own. DUNCAN. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021769 | sorrow.Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know, We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers.From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you. MACBETH. The rest is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021770 | labour, which is not usd for you: Ill be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So, humbly take my leave. DUNCAN. My worthy Cawdor! MACBETH. [_Aside._] The Prince of Cumberland!That is a step On which I must fall down, or else oerleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021771 | 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. [_Exit._] DUNCAN. True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant; And in his commendations I am fed. It is a banquet to me. Lets after him, Whose care is gone before | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021772 | to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman. [_Flourish. Exeunt._] SCENE V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeths Castle. Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter. LADY MACBETH. They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectst report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021773 | they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the King, who all-hailed me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these Weird Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021774 | (my dearest partner of greatness) that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promisd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promisd. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o th milk of human kindness To catch | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021775 | 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. Thoudst have, great Glamis, That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Than | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021776 | wishest should be undone. 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 crownd withal. Enter a Messenger. What is your tidings? MESSENGER. The King comes here tonight. LADY MACBETH. Thourt | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021777 | mad to say it. Is not thy master with him? who, weret so, Would have informd for preparation. MESSENGER. So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming. One of my fellows had the speed of him, Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message. LADY MACBETH. Give him tending. He brings great | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021778 | news. [_Exit Messenger._] The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, Stop up th access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021779 | Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th effect and it! Come to my womans breasts, And take my milk for gall, your murdring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on natures mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021780 | peep through the blanket of the dark To cry, Hold, hold! Enter Macbeth. Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor! Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! Thy letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant. MACBETH. My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight. LADY MACBETH. And when goes hence? MACBETH. Tomorrow, as he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021781 | purposes. LADY MACBETH. O, never Shall sun that morrow see! 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 undert. He thats coming Must be provided for; and you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021782 | shall put This nights great business into my dispatch; Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. MACBETH. We will speak further. LADY MACBETH. Only look up clear; To alter favour ever is to fear. Leave all the rest to me. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VI. The same. Before the Castle. Hautboys. Servants of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021783 | Macbeth attending. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus and Attendants. DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. BANQUO. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heavens breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021784 | but this bird hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observd The air is delicate. Enter Lady Macbeth. DUNCAN. See, see, our honourd hostess! The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God ild us for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021785 | your pains, And thank us for your trouble. LADY MACBETH. All our service, In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business to contend Against those honours deep and broad wherewith Your Majesty loads our house: for those of old, And the late dignities heapd up to them, We rest your hermits. DUNCAN. Wheres the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021786 | Thane of Cawdor? We coursd him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest tonight. LADY MACBETH. Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021787 | To make their audit at your Highness pleasure, Still to return your own. DUNCAN. Give me your hand; Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, And shall continue our graces towards him. By your leave, hostess. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VII. The same. A Lobby in the Castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over, a Sewer and divers Servants | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021788 | with dishes and service. Then enter Macbeth. MACBETH. If it were done when tis done, then twere well It were done quickly. If th assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-allhere, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, Wed jump the life | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021789 | to come. But in these cases We still have judgement here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which being taught, return To plague th inventor. This even-handed justice Commends th ingredience of our poisond chalice To our own lips. Hes here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021790 | 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, Striding the blast, or heavens cherubin, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021791 | horsd Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which oerleaps itself And falls on th other Enter Lady Macbeth. How now! what news? LADY MACBETH. He has almost suppd. Why have you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021792 | left the chamber? MACBETH. Hath he askd for me? LADY MACBETH. Know you not he has? MACBETH. We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honourd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. LADY MACBETH. Was the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021793 | hope drunk Wherein you dressd yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteemst the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021794 | ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting I dare not wait upon I would, Like the poor cat i th adage? MACBETH. Prythee, peace! I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. LADY MACBETH. What beast wast, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021795 | durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender tis to love | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021796 | the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluckd my nipple from his boneless gums And dashd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this. MACBETH. If we should fail? LADY MACBETH. We fail? But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And well not fail. When Duncan is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021797 | asleep (Whereto the rather shall his days 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: when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021798 | upon Th unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell? MACBETH. Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be receivd, When we have markd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber, and usd their very daggers, That they have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000021799 | donet? LADY MACBETH. Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death? MACBETH. I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [_Exeunt._] ACT II SCENE I. Inverness. Court within | 60 | gutenberg |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.