Macbeth continued.]

Macb.

Cure her of that:

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
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?

Doct.

Must minister to himself.

Therein the patient

Macb. 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.

Ibid.

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

And my fell of hair

Act v. Sc. 5.

Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir,

As life were in 't. I have supp'd full with hor

rors.

Ibid.

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

Ibid.

[Macbeth continued.

To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,

That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood

Do come to Dunsinane.

I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun.

Act v. Sc. 5.

Ibid.

Blow, wind! come, wrack!

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

I bear a charmed life.

Ibid.

Act v. Sc 7.1

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.

Ibid.1

Live to be the show and gaze o' the time. Ibid.

Lay on, Macduff;

And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold,

enough!"

HAMLET.

Ibid.

For this relief much thanks.

Act i. Sc. 1.

But in the gross and scope of mine opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our State.

Ibid.

Does not divide the Sunday from the week.

Ibid.

Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day.

Ibid.

Act v. Sc. 7, White, Singer, Knight. Act v. Sc. 8, Cambridge, Dyce, Staunton.

Hamlet continued.]

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless,and the sheeted dead. Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. Act i. Sc. I.

And then it started, like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful summons.

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir1 abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets.
strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Ibid.

The morn, in russet mantle clad,

Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.

Ibid.

With one auspicious, and one dropping eye, With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole.

Acti. Sc. 2.

The head is not more native to the heart.

Ibid.

A little more than kin, and less than kind.

Ibid.

Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems.

1 'can walk,' White, Knight.

[Hamlet continued.

But I have that within, which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

Act i. Sc. 2.

O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew;
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world! Ibid.
That it should come to this!

Ibid.

Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.

Ibid.

Ibid.

A beast, that wants discourse of reason.

My father's brother, but no more like my father,

Than I to Hercules.

It is not, nor it cannot come to, good.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Ibid.

In

my mind's eye, Horatio.

Ibid.

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

Ibid.

Hamlet continued.]

Season your admiration for a while. Act i. Sc. 2.

In the dead vast and middle of the night.

It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silvered.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Let it be tenable in your silence still.

Give it an understanding, but no tongue.

Foul deeds will rise,

Ibid.

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's

eyes.

The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon.

Ibid.

Act i. Sc. 3.

The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.

Ibid.

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to Heaven,
Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

Ibid.

Ibid.