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Act III.

Scene 4•

And overcome us like a summer's cloud

Without our special wonder ?
Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.


But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate.

Act iv.

Scene 1.

Stands Scotland where it did ?

Act in.

Scene 3:

My way of life *
Is fall'n into the sear—the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have ; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the

poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Act v.

Scene 3

a mind

MACBETH. Canst thou not minister to

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain ;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart ?

* May of life has been suggested as a better reading by some critics.


Therein the patient Must minister to himself.

MACBETH. Throw physic to the dogs—I'll none of it. Come, put mine armour on ; give me my

Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.
Come, sir, despatch. If thou could'st, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.

Act v.

Scene 3

Hang out our banners on the outward walls ;*
The cry is still, “ They come.”

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To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle !
Life's but a walking shadow—a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour


the stage,

* Much controversy has occurred as to the correct punctuation of this passage, some critics contending that it should be thus

“Hang out our banners; on the outward walls

is still, ‘They come.' "

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And then is heard no more ; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Act v.

Scene 5.

At least we'll die with harness on our back.


Of all men else, I have avoided thee.

Act v.

Scene 7.

And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense ;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.



Lord of thy presence, and no land beside.

Act 1.

Scene 1.

Here I and sorrow sit :
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it,

Scene 1.

Act III.

Thou ever strong upon the strongest side !

Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

Scene 1.

Act III.

No Italian priest, Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.


Within this wall of flesh There is a soul counts thee her creditor.

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Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

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To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or, with taper light,
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnishi,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

Scene 2.

Act 1v.

I saw a smith stand with his hammer thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news.


It is the curse of kings to be attended
By slaves that take their humours for a warrant,
To break within the bloody house of life.


This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them. Naught shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true.

Act v.

Scene 7


O, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast ?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?

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This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands; ;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

Scene I.

Act 11.

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