The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us.

I had most need of blessing, and Amen
Stuck in my throat.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Act . Sc. 2.

Methought I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more!'
Macbeth does murder sleep! the innocent sleep ;
Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave of care.
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

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

Act ii. Sc. 4

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.

Act iii. Sc. I.

Things without all remedy,

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

We have scotched the snake, not killed it.

Duncan is in his grave!

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

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.

The times have been,

That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end: but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools.

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with !

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act . Sc. 4.

What man dare, I dare.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves

Shall never tremble.

Unreal mockery, hence!

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

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

Act iii. Sc. 4.

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

Show his eyes, and grieve his heart!

Come like shadows, so depart.

Activ. Sc. I.

What will the line stretch out to the crack of

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

Stands Scotland where it did?

Activ. Sc. 3.

Activ. Sc. 3.

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.

Activ. Sc. 3.

What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
At one fell swoop?

Act iv. Sc. 3.

I cannot but remember such things were,

That were most precious to me.

Act iv. Sc. 3.

O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue!

Activ. Sc. 3.

Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeared.

Act v. Sc. I.

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little

hand.

Act v. Sc. 1.

My way of life

Is fallen 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.

Not so sick, my lord,

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

Act v. Sc. 3.

Therein the patient must minister to himself.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Throw physic to the dogs: I'll none of it.

Act v. Sc. 3.

I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn.

Act v. Sc. 5.

I have supped full with horrors.

Act v. Sc. 5.