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" Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH. "
Othello, the Moor of Venice: A Tragedy - Página 34
por William Shakespeare - 1770 - 133 páginas
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The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with ..., Volumen5

William Shakespeare - 1709
...Breafls, And take my Milk for Gall, you murth'ring Minifters, Where-ever in your fightlefs Subfbnces, You wait on Nature's Mifchief. Come, thick Night, And pall thee in the dunneft Smoak of Hell, That my keen Knife fee not the wound it makes, Nor Heav'n peep through the Blanket of...
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The Works of Shakespeare in Seven Volumes, Volumen5

William Shakespeare - 1733
...nature Shake my fell purpofe, nor keep peace between Th' effect, and it. Come to my woman's breads, And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters...nature's mifchief. — Come, thick night ! And pall theein thedunneft fmoakof hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes ; Nor heav'n peep through...
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The Works of Shakespear: In Six Volumes, Volumen5

William Shakespeare - 1745
...nature Shake my fell purpofe, nor keep peace between Th' effect, and it ! Come to my woman's breafts, And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters!...That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes. Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark To cry, Hold! bold! Enter Macbeth. Great Glamis! worthy...
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The works of Shakespear [ed. by sir T.Hanmer].

William Shakespeare - 1750
...gall, you murd'ring minifters ! Where-ever in your fightlefs fubftances Yon wait on nature's mifehief. Come, thick night ! And pall thee in the dunneft fmoak...That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes, Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark• To cry, HoU, bold! Enter Macbeth. Great Glamis ! worthy...
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The Works of Shakespeare, Volumen6

William Shakespeare - 1752
...nature Shake my fell purpofe, nor keep peace between Th' effeft, and it. Come to my woman's breafts, And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters...hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes ; Ner heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, hold, hold ! , Eater Macbeth. Gteta-GIami;!...
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The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes : Collated with the ..., Volumen6

William Shakespeare - 1762
...woman's brcafis, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring minifters ! Whtre-ever in your fightlcfs fubftances You wait on nature's mifchief. Come, thick night ! And pall thee in the dunneft fmoke of hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes ; Nor heav'n peep through the blanket...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare in Eight Volumes: With the ..., Volumen6

William Shakespeare - 1765
...nature Shake my fell purpofe, 6 nor keep peace between Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breads, And * take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters,...in your fightlefs fubftances * You wait on Nature's mifchief.—Come, thick night! prefent words may ftand. The meffenger, fays the fervant, had hardly...
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Mr. William Shakespeare: His Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies, Volumen4

William Shakespeare - 1767
...and it ! Come to my woman's breafts, And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters, Wherever in your fightlefs fubftances You wait on nature's...hell ! That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes; < And that which rather 2: and hit, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold,...
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The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, Volumen6

William Shakespeare - 1767
...minifters! Where-ever in your fightlefs iubltnnces You wait on nature's mifchief. — Come, thick night 1 And pall thee in the dunneft fmoak of hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes ; Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the daik, To cry, hold, hold ! Enter Macbeth. Great Glames ! worthy...
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All's well that ends well. Twelfth Night. Winter's tale. Macbeth

William Shakespeare - 1773
...fubftances ' You wait on nature's mifchief ! — Come, thick night, 7 And pall thee in the dunneft fmoke of hell ! That my keen knife fee not the wound it...heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, * To cry, bold, bold! Enter cannot be doubted that Shakefpeare wrote differently, perhaps thus, That no compunBious...
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