To amplify too much, would make much more, Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man, Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding LEAR ON THE DEATH OF CORDELIA. Howl, howl, howl, howl;-O, you are men of Had I stones; your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack:-O, she is gone for ever! I know when one is dead; and when one lives; She's dead as earth:-Lend me a looking-glass; If that her breath will mist or stain the stone, Why, then she lives. This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, Kent. O my good master! [Kneeling. Lear. Pr'ythee, away. * A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever --Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st?-Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low. LEAR DYING. And my poor fool* is hang'd! No, no, no life: Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no Never, never, never, never, never! [more, MACBETH. ACT I. WITCHES DESCRIBED. WHAT are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; [me, MACBETH'S TEMPER. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win. *Poor fool, in the time of Shakspeare, was an expression of endearment. LADY MACBETH'S SOLILOQUY ON THE NEWS OF The raven himself is hoarse, That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits Stop up MACBETH'S IRRESOLUTION. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,— To our own lips. He's here in double trust: TRUE FORTITUDE. I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none. ACT II. THE MURDERING SCENE. Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but *Winds; sightless is invisible. As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.—Whiles I threat, he lives; Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. [A bell rings. go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell, I That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. [Exit. Enter Lady MAСВЕТН. Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold: [Hark! Peace! What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms * Haft. D D + Drops. |