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Which fhould exprefs her goodlieft. You have
Sun-fhine and rain at once; her fmiles and tear

Lear. Thou think'ft 'tis much, that this con- Were like a better May: thofe happy fmiles,

tentious ftorm

Invades us to the fkin: fo 'tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fix'd,
The leffer is fcarce felt. Thou'dft fhun a bear;
But if thy flight lay toward the raging fea,
Thou'dft meet the bear i' the mouth. When
the mind's free,

The body's delicate; the tempeft in my mind
Doth from my fenfes take all feeling elle
Save what beats there.-Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth fhould tear this hand!
For lifting food to't ?-But I'll punish home.
No, I will weep no more.-In fuch a night,
To fhut me out!-Pour on; I will endure.
In fuch a night as this!-O Regan, Goneril!
Your old kind father, whofe frank heart gave
all-

O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that-

Kent. Good my lord, enter here.
Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; feek thine

own eafe;

This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more-but I'll go in:
In, boy; go first. You houfelefs poverty-
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll fleep
Poor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm,
How fhall your houfelefs heads, and unfed fides,
Your loop'd andwindow'd raggedness,defend you
From feafons fuch as thefe ?-O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take phyfic, pomp;
Expofe thyself to feel what wretches feel!
That thou mayft shake the fuperflux to them,
And fhew the heavens more just,

Enter Edgar difguised like a Madman.
Lear, Haft thou given all to thy two daughters?

And art thou come to this?

Didit thou give them all?
Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daugh-
Kent. He hath no daughters, fir. [ters!
Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have
fubdued nature

To fuch a lowness, but his unkind daughters,
Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh 3
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Thofe pelican daughters.

The Jufice of Providence,

That play'd on her ripe lip, feem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes! which parted

That I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier :-heavens, deal fo ftill!
Let the fuperfluous and luft-dieted man,
That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he does not feel, feel your pow'r
quickly i

thence,

As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.—In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could fo become it.

Defcription of Lear diftracted,

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-flows:
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our fuftaining corn.

Defcription of Dover Cliff.

Come on, fir; here's the place:-stand fill:

how fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low! [
The crows, and choughs, that wing the midw
Shew fcarce fo grofs as beetles; half-way des
Hangs one that gathers famphire;dreadful tra
Methinks he feems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almoft too fmall for fight: the murmuring
That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chates,
Cannot be heard fo high: I'll look no more,
Left my brain turn, and the deficient fight
Topple down headlong.

Glofter's Farewell to the World.

O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce; and in your i
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great oppofelefs wils,
My inuff, and loathed part of nature,
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless hi

On the Abuse of Power.

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody ha Why doft thou lafh that whore? ftrip th back;

Thou hotly luft'ft to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp'ft her. The ufurer f

the cozener.

Through tatter'd clothes small vices do app
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate
gold,

And the ftrong lance of justice hurtles br
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's ftraw doth p
None does offend,none, I fay, none; I'll al
Take that of me, my friend, who have the
To feal th' accufer's lips. Get thee glas j
And, like a fcurvy politician, feem
To fee the things thou dost not.

an

Cordelia on the Ingratitude of ber Sifters.
O, my dear father! Reftoration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kifs
Repair those violent harms, that my two fifters
Have in thy reverence made!

Had you not been their father, thefe white flakes
Had challeng pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds?
To ftand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick crofs lightning to watch (poor perdu !)
Within this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog
Tho' he had bit me, fhould have ftood that night
Against my fire; and waft thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with fwine, and rogues forlorn,
In fhort and mufty ftraw? Alack! alack!
'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all.

Scene between Lear and Cordelia.

Cord. How does my royal lord? how fares your majefty?

Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the

grave.

Thou art a foul in blifs; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do fcald like molten lead.

Cord. Sir, do you know me ?

Lear. You are a fpirit, I know; where did you die?

Cord. Still, ftill far wide!

Phyf. He's fearce awake, let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been? where am I?Fair day-light! [pity I am mightily abus'd.-I fhould even die with To fee another thus,-I will not fwear Thefe are my hands.

Cord. O look upon me, Sir,

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me: No, Sir, you must not kneel.

Lear. Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourfcore and upward: and, to deal plainly, I fear I am net in my perfect mind. Methinks I fhould know you, and know this

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Edm. Take them away.

Lear. Upon fuch facrifices, my Cordelia, The gods themselves throw incenfe.

The Justice of the Gods.

The gods are juft, and of our pleasant vices Make inftruments to fcourge us.

Edgar's Account of his difcovering himself to bis Father, &c.

Lift a brief tale :-

And, when 'tis told, O that my heart would burft!

The bloody proclamation to escape,
That follow'd me fo near (Oour lives sweetness I
That with the pain of death would hourly die,
Rather than die at once !), taught me to shift
Into a madman's rags; to affume a femblance
That very dogs difdain'd: and in this habit
Met I my father, with his bleeding rings,
Their precious ftones new loft; became his guide,
Led him, begg'd for him, fav'd him from de-
fpair;

Never (O fault!) reveal'd myself unto him,
Until fome half-hour paft, when I was arm'd.
Not fure, tho' hoping, of his good fuccefs,
I afk'd his bleffing, and, from first to laft
Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw`d heart,
[Alack, too weak the confli& to fupport 1)
Twixt two extremes of paflion, joy and grief,
Burft (milingly.

Baft. This fpeech of yours hath mov'd me, And thall, perchance, do good: but ipeak you on You look as you had fomething more to lay. Alb. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in; For I am almoft ready to dissolve,

Hearing of this.

Edg. This would have feem'd a period To fuch as love not forrow: but another,

Gent. He conforted, good madam: the great To amplify too much, would make much more,

age,

And top extremity.

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While

Whilft I was big in clamour, came there in a
Who having feen me in my worst eftate, [man,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd fociety; but, then, finding
Who 'twas that fo endur'd, with his strong arms
He faften'd on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he'd burft heaven; threw him on my father:
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear receiv'd ; which, in recounting,
His grief grew puiffant, and the ftrings of life
Began to crack: twice then the trumpet founded,
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 as earth: lend me a looking-glass;
If that ber breath will mift or stain the stone,
Why, then the lives.

This feather ftirs; the lives! If it be fo,
It is a chance which does redeem all forrows,
That ever I have felt.

Kent. O, my good master !

Lear. Pr'ythee away.

A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!

Lady Macbeth, on the News of Duncan's Approach,
The raven himself is hoarfe,
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unfex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direft cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up th' accefs and paffage to remorse;
That no compunctious vifitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep pace between
The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breafts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring mi
nifters,

Wherever in your fightlefs fubftances [night,
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick
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 'tis done, then 't were It were done quickly; if the affaffination [well 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 shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come. But, in these cafes,

I might have fav'd her; but the 's gone for ever!-We ftill have judgment here; that we but teach
Cordelia! Cordelia ! ftay a little. Ha!
What is't thou fay'ft!Her voice was ever foft,
Gentle, and low.

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Bloody inftructions, which being taught, return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed juffice
Commends the ingredients of our poifon'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double truft:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his baft,
Who fhould against his murderer fhut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. 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, againk
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 fightless 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
And falls on the other.
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,

True Fortitude..

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

The murdering Scene. Macbeth alone.
Is this a dagger, which I fee before me,
The handle tow'rd my hand? Come, let me
clutch thee-

I have thee not; and yet I fee thee ftill.
Art thou not, fatal vifion, fenfible
To feeling, as to fight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a falfe creation,
Proceeding from the heat oppreffed brain?
I fee thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which I now draw-

The

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Book III.

DRAMATIC.

[pace,

629

Macb. One cried, "God bless us!" and
As they had feen me,with thefe hangman's hands,
"Amen!" the other;
When they did fay, God bless us.
Liftening their fear. I could not fay, Amen,

Lady. Confider it not fo deeply.
I had moft need of bleffing, and Amen
Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce
[Amen?
Stuck in my throat.

Lady. Thefe deeds must not be thought
After these ways; fo, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry," Sleep

Thou marshall'ft me the way that I was going; And fuch an inftrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other fenfes, Or elfe worth all the reft I fee thee ftill; And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood, Which was not fo before-There's no fuch thing: It is the bloody business, which informs Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world Nature feems dead, and wicked dreams abufe The curtain'd fleep; now witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his fentinel, the wolf, Who.e howl's his watch, thus with his ftealthy With Tarquin's ravishing fides, tow'rds his defign" Macbeth doth murder fleep, the innocent fleep; Moves like a ghoft-Thou fure and firm-fet earth," Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd fleeve of care, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear" The death of each day's life, fore labour's bath, Thy very ftones prate of my where-about, And take the prefent horror from the time, Which now suits with it-Whiles I threat, he lives[A bell rings. I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell That fummons thee to heaven or to hell. [Exit." Enter Lady.

Lady. That which hath made them drunk,
hath made me bold :
What hath quench'd them,hath giv'n me fire:
Hark! peace!

It was the owl that fhriek'd, the fatal bell-man,
Which gives the ftern'ft good night. He is
about it :-

The doors are open; and the furfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with fnores: I have drugg'd
their poffets,

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Who's there?-what, ho!
Lady. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done:--the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us!-hark!-I laid their daggers
ready,

He could not mifs 'em.-Had he not resembled
My father as he flept, I had don't.-My
husband?

Macb. I have done the deed :-didft thou not bear a noife?

"no more!

"Balm of hurt minds, great nature's fecond "Chief nourisher in life's feaft."

[courfe, [houfe:

Lady. What do you mean? Mach. Still it cried, "Sleep no more!"to all the "Glamis hath murder'd fleep; and therefore "Cawdor

Shall fleep no more, Macbeth fhall fleep no [more!" Lady. Who was it, that thus cried? Why,

worthy Thane,

So brain-fickly of things: go, get fome water,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
Why did you bring thefe daggers from the place?
And wash this filthy witnefs from your hand,
They muft lie there: go, carry them; and smear
The fleepy grooms with blood.

I am afraid to think what I dave done;
Macb. I'll go no more:
Look on 't again, I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers: the fleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
For it must seem their guilt.

Knocking within.

[Exit.

Macb. Whence is that knocking [Starting, What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine How is't with me, when ev'ry noise appals me I eyes!

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Lady. I heard the owls fcream and the crick-Thy multitudinous feas incarnardine Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will Making the green one red.[rather

Did not you speak?

Mach. When?

Lady. Now.

Mach. As I defcended?

Lady. Ay.

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Macb. Hark! who lies i'the fecond chamber? To wear a heart fo white. I hear a knocking

Mad. This is a ferry fight!
[Looks on bis bands.
Lady. A foolish thought! to fay a forry fight.
Macb. There's one did laugh in his fleep, and
one cried murder!"

That they did wake each other! I ftood and
heard them :

But they did fay their prayers, and addrefs'd them
Again to fleep.

Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Knock. At the fouth entry. Retire we to our chamber A little water clears us of this deed: How eafy is it then! Your conftancy Hath left you unattended-hark! more knock. ing: [Knock, And fhew us to be watchers: be not loft Get on your night-gown, left occafion call us, So poorly in your thoughts. Macb. To know my deed-'twere beft not know [myself. Wake, Duncan, with this knocking! I would thou couldft!

Macbeth's

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With them they think on? Things without all
remedy

Should be without regard : what's done, is done.
Macb. We have fcotch'd the fnake, not kill'd it;
She'll clofe, and be herfelf, whilft our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the
worlds fuffer,

Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and fleep
In the affliction of thefe terrible dreams
That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our place, have fent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
In restless ecftaly.-Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he fleeps well;
Treafon has done his worst: nor fteel, nor poifon,
Malice domeftic, foreign levy; nothing
Can touch him farther!

O, full of fcorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'ft that Banquo and his Fleance lives.
Lady. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
Macb. There's comfort yet, they are affailable;
Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd fight; ere, to black Hecate's fum-

mons,

The fhard-borne beetle, with his drowly hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there fhall be
A deed of dreadful note.

[done

Lady. What's to be done?
Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, deareft
chuck,

Till thou applaud the deed. Come, fealing night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel, and tear to pieces, that great bond
Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the
Makes wing to the rooky wood:
[ crow
Good things of day begin to droop and drowfe;
While night's black agents to their preys
roufe.

do

Scene, a Room of State. Banquet prepared.
beth, Lady, Roffe, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.
Lady. My royal lord,

Macb. Here had we now our country's ho
nour roof'd,

Whom

Were the grac'd perfon of our Banquo prefent;
may I rather challenge for unkindness,
Than pity for mischance.
Roffe. His abfence, Sir,

Lays blame upon his promife. Please it your
highness

To grace us with your royal company?
Macb. The table's full!
[Starting.
Len. Here is a place referv'd, Sir.
Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my good lord.
What is 't that moves your highness?
Mach. Which of you have done this?
Lords. What, my good lord?
Macb. Thou can't not fay, I did it: never
Thy gory locks at me.

[hake Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his highnefs is not well Lady. Sit, worthy friend :-my lord is often

thus,

And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep
The fit is momentary; upon a thought [fear;
He will again be well: if much you note him,
You fhall offend him, and extend his paffion!
Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?

[To Macb. afde.
Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on
Which might appal the devil.
[that

Lady. O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear: [4.
This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you taid,
Led you to Duncan. O thefe flaws and ftarts
(Impoftors to true fear) would well become
A woman's ftory at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make fuch faces ? when all's done ;
You look but on a fool.

Macb. Pr'ythee fee there!
Behold ! look! lol how fay you ?

[Pointing to the Gh
Why, what care I? if thou canst nod, fpeak too.
If charnel-houfes and our graves must send
Thofe, that we bury, back-our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites. [The Ghost vanilin
Lady. What! quite unmann'd in folly?
Macb. If Iftand here, I faw him.
Lady. Fie, for fhame!

[olden time, Macb. Blood hath been fhed ere now, it

Mac-Ere human ftatute purg'd the gen'ral weal;
Ay, and fince too, murders have been perform
Too terrible for the ear; the times have been
That, when the brains were out, the man wo
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And there an end: but now they rife again, [de,
And push us from our ftools: this is more firargy

You do not give the cheer: the feaft is fold, That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making, 'Tis given with welcome: to feed were beft at

home;

From thence, the fauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.

[The Ghost of Banquo rifes, and fits in
Macbeth's place.

Macb. Sweet remembrancer !-
Now, good digeftion wait on appetite,
And health on both!

Len. May't please your highness fit?

Than fuch a murder is.

Lady. My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.

Mach. I do forget :--

Do not mufe at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a ftrange infirmity, which is nothing
To thofe that know me. Come, love and health
to us all ;

Then I'll fit down : give me fome wine, fill fo

I drink

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