"with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution, like valour’s minion carved out his passage till he faced the slave…”
“What hands are here? Ha! They pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this bloodClean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.”
Ride you this afternoon?Ay, my good lordIs 't far you ride?We would like to have heard your good advice, which has always been serious and helpful, at the council today, but we'll wait until tomorrow."
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are. Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnham woods to high Dunsinare Hill Shll come against him."
Why then, Gods soldiers be he! Had i as many sons as i have hairs, i would not wish them to a fairer death: and so his knell is knolled..."