Thefe dreadful fummoners grace. I am a man More finn'd against than finning. Kent. Alack, bare-headed! Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft.. So diftribution should undo excess, Patience and Sorrow. Which fhould exprefs her good lieft. You have seen Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this Were like a better May: those happy fmiles, Contentious form Invades us to the skin: fo 'tis to thee; mind The body's delicate; the tempeft in my O, that way madne fs lics; let me fhun that; Kent. Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyfelf; feck thine own eafe; This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder From feafons fuch as thefe-O, I have ta'en Enter Edgar, difguifed like a Madman. And art thou come to this ? Didft thou give them all? Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters' Kent. He hath no daughters, Sir. Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have fub dued nature To fuch a lowncfs, but his unkind daughters. The Juftice of Providence. That I am wretched, That play'd on her ripe lip, feem'd not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.-In brief, Defcription of Lear diftra&ted. Alack, 'tis he! why, he was met even now As mad as the vex'd fea; finging aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds, With harlocs, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our fuftaining corn. Defcription of Dover-Cliff. Come on, fir; here's the place :-stand ftill :: how fearful [air, And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low ! Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Left Topple down headlong. Glofler's Farewel to the World. O you mighty gods! This world I do renounce; and, in your fights, My inuff, and loathed part of nature, should Buin itfelf out. And the ftrong lance of juftice hurtlefs breaks: Arm it in rags, a pigmy's ftraw doth pierce it. Makes thee the happier:-heavens, deal fo ftill! None does offend, none, I fay, none; I'll able 'em: Let the fuperfluous and luft-dieted man, Take that of me, my friend, who have the pow'r Cordelia Cordelia on the Ingratitude of her Sifters. Had you not been their father, thefe white flakes Of quick crofs lightning? to watch (poor perdu!) Scene between Lear and Cordelia. Cord. How does my royal lord? how fares your Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the Phyf. He's fcarce awake; let him alone awhile. Fair day-light! [pity Cord. O look upon me, Sir, And hold your hands in benediction o'er me: Lear. Prav, do not mock me: Lear. Do not abuse me. You fee, is cur'd in him and yet it is danger Cord. Will't please your Highness walk? Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old, and Lear to Cordelia, when taken Prisoners. No, no, no, no! come, let's away to prison: too Who lofes, and who wins; who's in, who's out- Edm. Take them away. Lear. Upon fuch facrifices, my Cordelia The Juftice of the Gods. The gods are juft, and of our pleasant vices Edgar's Account of his discovering himself to biş burft! heart woul! The bloody proclamation to escape, Never (O fault!) reveal'd myfelf unto him, Gent. Be comforted, good madam; the great To amplify too much, would make much more, rage And top extremity. Whilst I was big in clamour, came there in a man, And there I left him tranc'd. Lear on the Death of Cordelia. Howl, howl, howl, howl! O you are men of ftones; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them fo That heaven's vault should crack.-O, fhe is gone for ever: I know when one is dead, and when one lives; She's dead at earth: lend me a looking-glafs; If that her breath will mift or ftain the stone, Why, then the lives. This feather ftirs; fhe lives! If it be fo, It is a chance which does redeem all forrows, Kent. O, my good mafter! A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! Lady Macbeth, on the News of Duncan's Approach. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on 't ---Live you? or are you aught That man may queftion? You feem to underftand me, By cach at once her choppy finger laying Macbeth's Temper. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, The illness fhould attend it. What thou wouldst That would thou holily; wouldst not play false, Wherever in your fightless fubftances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunneft fmoke of hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes; Nor Heaven peep thro' the blanket of the dark, To cry, "Hold, hold !”. Macbeth's Irrefolution. If it were done, when 't is done, then 't were well It were done quickly: if the affaffination Could trammel up the confequence, and catch, With his furceafe, fuccefs; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and fhoal of time, We'd jump the life to come. But, in thefe cafes, We fill have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody inftructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: this even-handed juftice Commends the ingredients of our poifon'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: Fift, as I am his kinfman and his fubject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his hoft, Who fhould against his murderer fhut the door, Not bear the knife myfelf. Befides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties fo 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, Striding the blaft, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd Upon the fightlefs couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye, That tears fhall drown the wind.---I have no fpur To prick the fides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other. Macb. One cried, "God blefs us!" and As they had feen me, with thefe hangman's hands, [Amen? pronounce Thou marshall'ft me the way that I was going; lives [A bell rings. Lady. That which hath made them drunk, hath What hath quench'd them, hath giv`n me fire:- It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell-man, Lady. Ay. [cry. Lady. Thefe deeds must not be thought Sleep "Balm of hurt minds, great nature's fecond course, "Chief nourisher in life's feast." [houfe: Lady. What do you mean? Marb. Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the "Glamis hath murder'd fleep; and therefore "Cawdor [more!" "Shall fleep no more, Macbeth fhall fleep no Lady. Who was it, that thus cried? Why, worthy Thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think Macb. I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done Lady. Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers: the fleeping, and the dead, Knocking within. [Exit. Mach. Whence is that knocking? [Starting. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Lady. My hands are of your colour; but I fhame Macb. Hark who lies i' the fecond chamber: To wear a heart fo white. I hear a knocking Lady. Donalbain. [Looks on his bands. Lady. A foolish thought! to fay a forry fight. Marb. There's one did laugh in his fleep, and one cried" murder!" That they did wake each other; I ftood and heard But they did fay their prayers, and addrefs'd them Lady. There are two lodg'd together. With them they think on? Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what's done, is done. Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and fleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, O, full of fcorpions is my inind, dear wife! Thou know'ft that Banquo and his Fleance lives. Lady. But in them nature's copy's not eterne. Mach. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness, Lays blame upon his promife. Please it your highnels To grace us with your royal company? Len. Here is a place referv'd, Sir. Len. Here, my good lord. [Starting: Macb. Thou canst not fay, I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me. Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his highness is not well. Lady. Sit, worthy friends :-my lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep feat; [Afide. Mach. There's comfort yet, they are affailable; This is the very painting of your fear: Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you faid, His cloifter'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's fum-Led you to Duncan. O thefe flaws and starts mons, The fhard-borne beetle, with his drowly hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal, there fhall be done A deed of dreadrul note. Lady. What's to be done? Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearcft chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, feeling night, Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do roufe. Scene, a Room of State. Banquet prepared. Macbeth, Lady, Roft, Lenox. Lords, and Attendants. Impeitors to true fear) would well become Mach. Pr'ythee fee there! [Pointing to the Ghost: Why,what care I if thou canst nod, fpeak too. If charnel-houfes and our graves must send Shall be the maws of kites. [The Ghoft vanifbes. Thofe, that we bury, back-our monuments Lady. What! quite unmann'd in folly ? Macb. If I ftand here, I faw him. Lady. Fie, for Thame! [time, Macb. Blood hath been fhed ere now,i' the olden Ere human ftatute purg'd the gen'ral weal; Ay, and fince too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear; the times have been, That, when the brains were out,the nan would die, And there an end: but now they rife again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our ftools: this is more strange Than fuch a murder is. Lady. My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you. Macb. I do forget: |