Jonathan O'Neill’s Reviews > Macbeth > Status Update
Jonathan O'Neill
is 16% done
LADY M
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood,
Stop up th’access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th’effect and it... [cont..]
— 4 hours, 4 min ago
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood,
Stop up th’access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th’effect and it... [cont..]
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Jonathan’s Previous Updates
Jonathan O'Neill
is 13% done
Hamlet's, 'One may smile and smile and be a villain, finds companionable thought, here, in King Duncan's, 'There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face.'
— 5 hours, 0 min ago
To find the mind's construction in the face.'
Jonathan O'Neill
is 8% done
Banquo to the witches:
... You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
I'm disappointed I didn't start a catalogue of Shakespearean insults with Hamlet and Midsummer; they're an absolute treasure trove. Better late than never, I guess. No one roasts like the bard.
— 12 hours, 51 min ago
... You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
I'm disappointed I didn't start a catalogue of Shakespearean insults with Hamlet and Midsummer; they're an absolute treasure trove. Better late than never, I guess. No one roasts like the bard.
Jonathan O'Neill
is 3% done
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name),
Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion, carved out his passage,
Till he faced the slave,
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops,
And fixed his head upon our battlements.
— Oct 05, 2026 04:54AM
Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion, carved out his passage,
Till he faced the slave,
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops,
And fixed his head upon our battlements.
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever, in your slightest 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’.