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Murder

O horror, horror, horror!

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Macduff
O horror, horror, horror!Epizeuxis
Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!Catachresis & Synecdoche
Macbeth and Lennox
What’s the matter?

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

Macduff
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.Personification
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord’s anointed temple and stole thence
The life o’ th’ building.

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Ay, Edward will use women honorably!

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Ay, Edward will use women honorably!
Would he were wasted—marrow, bones, and all—
That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring
To cross me from the golden time I look for.
And yet, between my soul’s desire and me,
The lustful Edward’s title burièd,
Is Clarence, Henry, and his son, young Edward,
And all the unlooked-for issue of their bodies
To take their rooms ere I can place myself.
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Source:
Act 3
Scene 2
Line 126

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Figures of Speech:

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul

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It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars.
It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood,
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.

So sweet was ne’er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears.
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Source:
Act 5
Scene 2
Line 1

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O, O, O!

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Othello
O, O, O!
Othello falls on the bed.
Emilia
Nay, lay thee down, and roar!
For thou hast killed the sweetest innocent
That e’er did lift up eye.
Othello, standing
O, she was foul!—
I scarce did know you, uncle. There lies your niece,
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Source:
Act 5
Scene 2
Line 235

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Connected Notes:
Better Angels

Give me another horse!

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Give me another horse! Bind up my wounds!
Have mercy, Jesu!—Soft, I did but dream.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!Apostrophe & Alliteration
The lights burn blue; it is now dead midnight.
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.Transferred Epithet
What do I fear? Myself? There’s none else by.
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Think’st thou I am an executioner?

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Richard
Think’st thou I am an executioner?
King Henry
A persecutor I am sure thou art.
If murdering innocents be executing,
Why, then, thou art an executioner.
Richard
Thy son I killed for his presumption.

Thy mother felt more than a mother’s pain,
And yet brought forth less than a mother’s hope

King Henry
Hadst thou been killed when first thou didst presume,
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Source:
Act 5
Scene 6
Line 31

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