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" The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers. Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see... "
The London encyclopaedia, or, Universal dictionary of science, art ... - Page 65
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Macbeth, from the text of S. Johnson and G. Steevens, revised

William Shakespeare - 1784 - 116 pages
...iVherever in your sightless substances 370 You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night*, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife 'see not the wound it makes ; Tor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark*, To cry, Hold, hold I— — Great Glamis ! worthy...
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Macbeth. King John

William Shakespeare - 1788 - 480 pages
...You. wait on n;iiure's mischief! Come, thick night j And pall tliee in the dunnest smoke of liell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, loci)', Hold, hold! GreatGlamis! worthy Cawdor I Enter MACBETH....
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The British essayists; with prefaces by A. Chalmers, Volume 22

British essayists - 1802 - 266 pages
...breaks out; amidst his emotions into a wish natural to a mur« derer: —-i—Come, thick night! And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes j Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark. To cry, Hold, hold ! In this passage is exerted...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare, Volume 3

William Shakespeare - 1803 - 558 pages
...ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's 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 peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold! Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor ! Enter Macbeth....
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text ..., Volume 4

William Shakespeare - 1803 - 412 pages
...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall 8 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 ! worth/ Cawdor ! i « Murderous....
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Select British Classics, Volume 8

English literature - 1803 - 268 pages
...breaks out amidst his emotions into a wish natural to a murderer : -Come, thick night ! And pall theejii the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes; Nor Heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark. To cry, Hold, hold ! In this passage is exerted all the...
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Notes Upon Some of the Obscure Passages in Shakespeare's Plays: With Remarks ...

John Howe Baron Chedworth - 1805 - 392 pages
...nature's mischief! Dr., Johnson's is the true explanation. P. 496.— 298.— 377. 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 ! I think the objections in the Rambler to...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Volume 6

William Shakespeare - 1806 - 432 pages
...ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief's ! 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 Cawdor50! Enter...
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The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.

Samuel Johnson - English literature - 1806 - 354 pages
...kin;, he breaks out amidst his emotions into a wish natural to a murderer : Come, thick night ! And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it malces ; . . Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark. To cry, Hold, hold! In this passage is...
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Macbeth. King John. King Richard II.-v. 2. King Henry IV. King Henry V.-v. 3 ...

William Shakespeare - 1807 - 346 pages
...sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the deepest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; ^j,^ Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hald, hold! Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!...
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