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Macbeth-Continued.

Act i. Sc. 4.

Nothing in his life

Became him like the leaving it.

Act i. Sc. 4.

There's no art

To find the mind's construction in the face.

Act i. Sc. 5.

Yet do I fear thy nature;

It is too full of the milk of human kindness,

To catch the nearest way.

Act i. Sc. 5.

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters.

Act i. Sc. 7.

If it were done, when 't is done, then 't were well It were done quickly.

Act i. Sc. 7.

That but this blow

Might be the be-all and the end-all here.

Act i. Sc. 7.

This even-handed justice

Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice

To our own lips.

Act i. Sc. 7.

Besides, this Duncan

Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been

Macbeth- -Continued.

So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking off.

Act i. Sc. 7..

I have no spur

To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other

Act i. Sc. 7.

I have bought

Golden opinions from all sorts of people.

Act i. Sc. 7.

Letting I dare not wait upon I would
Like the poor cat i' the adage.

Act i. Sc. 7.

I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.

Act i. Sc. 7.

But screw your courage to the sticking-place.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

Is this a dagger which I see before me,

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Thou sure and firm-set earth,

Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear

Thy very stones prate of

my whereabout.

Macbeth-Continued.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

For it is a knell

That summons thee to heaven or to hell!

Act ii. Sc. 2.

The attempt, and not the deed,

Confounds us.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave of care.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Infirm of purpose!

Act ii. Sc. 3.

The labor we delight in, physics pain.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees

Is left this vault to brag of.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawked at, and killed.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Mur. We are men, my liege.

Mac. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.

Macbeth-Continued.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Things without remedy,

Should be without regard: what's done is done.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

We have scotched the snake, not killed it.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Duncan is in his grave!

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.

Act iii. Sc.. 4.

But now, I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Now good digestion wait on appetite,

And health on both!

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Thou canst not say, I did it: never shake

Thy gory locks at me.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with!

Act iii. Sc. 4.

What man dare, I dare.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves

Shall never tremble.

Macbeth-Continued.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, with most admired disorder.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder?

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*These lines occur also in The Witch" of Thomas Middleton, Act 5, Sc. 2; and it is uncertain to which the priority should be ascribed.

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