...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall 3 thee in the dunnest smoke of hell! That my keen knife...makes; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, 4 To cry, Hold, hold! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor! Enter MACBETH. Greater than both, by the all-hail...

...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, And pall3 thee in the dunnest smoke of hell! That my keen knife...makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,4 To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH. Greater than both, by the...

...in its nature; and, accordingly, we find Shakspeare thus expressing his sublime conceptions :— ' Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke...through the blanket of the dark To cry, hold, hold.' MACBETH. Sir Walter Scott, also, the modern master of the strongest and most understood facts and feelings...

...his emotions into a wish natural for a murderer : Come, thick nifht! And pall the« in the dünnest K ? {9* & u)R \ 1 k5 .`.Ri 6{ h[& wT 1 xy 2F 1l߬ F d՜j|Ŝ u1 ,s~ P h5 q u CO', Hold, hold ! In this passage is exerted all the force of poetry ; that force which calls new powers...

...unintelligible by some, and absurd by others ; among which latter class we again encounter the erudite Doctor. " That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor...through the blanket of the dark, To cry, 'Hold! hold!'" Upon this passage, Dr. Johnson, in the Rambler, No. 168, remarks thus : — •' Lady Macbeth proceeds...

...Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, And pall thee9 in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see...through the blanket of the dark, To cry, " Hold, hold !"— Enter MACBETH. Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !...

...peace between Th' effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall , you murdering ministers , Wherever in your sightless substances...the dunnest smoke of hell , That my keen knife see noth the wound it makes , Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark , To cry, "Hold, hold!" —...

...Alexander, who had been raised by the poetry, was depressed greatly by its arithmetic. She recommenced — " That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor...cry hold! hold! — Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!" Making the point on " Great Glamis,'' at Macbcth's entrance, not on " hold," which is done now-a-days,...

...émotions into a wish natural to a murderer — »• ' Come thick night, And pall thee in the dünnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound...through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold! ' In this passage is exerted all the force of poetry, that force which calls new powers into being,...

...blackness in which death is folded up ; an image conveying at once absence of light and of life?— " That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor...through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold! hold! " &c. The third of these murderous adjurations to the powers of nature for their complicity is uttered...