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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,
The handle toward my hand?

Act ii. Sc. 1.
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?

Act iii. Sc. 4.
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.

Act iv. Sc. 1.
Double, double, toil and trouble.

Act iv. Sc. 1.
Black spirits and white,

Red spirits and gray,
Mingle, mingle, mingle,

You that mingle may.''

Act iv. Sc. 1. By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.

Act iv. Sc. 1. A deed without a name.

* 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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