Macbeth Literary Devices

But be the serpent under it

Bleed, bleed, poor country!

Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown and put a barren sceptre in my grip

The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements

The sleeping and dead are but as pictures

What are these so withered and so wild in their attire

O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!

Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths

Look like the innocent flower

False face must hide what the false heart doth know

Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight with a new Gorgon

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. O, O, O!

The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now?

All our service, in every point twice done and then done double

Make thick my blood; Stop up the access and passage to remorse

Fair and noble hostess, we are your guest tonight

Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble

If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly

Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage