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That with the pain of death we'd hourly die,
This speech of yours hath mov'd me, And shall, perchance, do good; but speak you on; You look as you had something more to say.
Alb. If there be more, more woful, hold it in; For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.
This would have seem'd a period
To such as love not sorrow; but another,
Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
THE JUSTICE OF THE GODS.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to scourge us.
Howl, howl, howl, howl!-O, you are men of stones; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so [ever!That heaven's vault should crack: O, she is gone for 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,
O my good master!
Lear. Pr'ythee, away,
A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever!-
What is't thou say'st?-Her voice was ever soft,
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 more, Never, never, never, never, never!
WHAT are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;
Upon her skinny lips: You should be women,
Yet do I fear thy nature;
LADY MACBETH'S SOLILOQUY ON THE NEWS OF
The raven himself is hoarse,
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
*Poor fool, in the time of Shakspeare, was an expression of endearment.
Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well, It were done quickly: If the assassination Could trammel upon the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,— We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases, We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides,, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Wrap as in a mantle.
Striding the blast, or heav'n's cherubin, hors'd
That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none.
THE MURDERING SCENE.
Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
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
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
*Winds; sightless is invisible. t Haft