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Macb.

What is the night ? L. Macb. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Macbeth. Act üi. Sc. 4.

I am in blood
Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o’er.

Ibid.
My little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

Sc. 6. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Act iv. Sc. 1. Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog.

Ibid.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.

Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!

Ibid. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags ! Ibid. A deed without a name.

Ibid. I'll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate.

Ibid. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart!

Ibid. What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom ?

Ibid. I'll charm the air to give a sound, While you perform your antic round.

Ibid. The weird sisters.

Ibid. The flighty purpose never is o’ertook, Unless the deed go with it.

Ibid. When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

Sc. 2.

1 Let the air strike our tune, Whilst we show reverence to yond peeping moon.

MIDDLETON : The Witch, act v. sc. 2.

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3. Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.

Ibid.

Stands Scotland where it did ?

Ibid.

Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. Ibid.
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop ?

Ibid.
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.

Ibid. Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes And braggart with my tongue.

Ibid. The night is long that never finds the day.

Ibid. Out, damned spot! out, I say ! Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afеard ?

Ibid. Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him ?

Ibid. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.

Ibid.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with fear.

Sc. 3.

old

My way of life
Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany 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.

Doct.

Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.
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.

Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb. Throw physic to the dogs : I'll none of it.

Macbeth. 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.

Sc. 5. My fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise pouse and stir As life were in 't: I have supp'd full with horrors. 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.
I pull in resolution, and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
That lies like truth: “Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane."

Ibid.

I gin to be aweary of the sun.

Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5. Blow, wind ! come, wrack ! At least we'll die with harness on our back.

Ibid. Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

Sc. 6. I bear a charmed life.

Sc. 8.1 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.1 Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!”

Ibid. 1 For this relief much thanks : 't is bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1. But in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Ibid.

Whose sore task Does not divide the Sunday from the week.

Ibid. This sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day. Ibid. 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.

Ibid. And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons.

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

Ibid.

1 Act v. Sc. 7 in Singer and White.

3

It faded on the crowing of the cock.
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 dares stir2 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.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 1.
So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.? Ibid.
The memory be green.

Sc. 2. With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole.

Ibid. The head is not more native to the heart.

Ibid. A little more than kin, and less than kind.

Ibid. All that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.

Ibid. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not "seems." 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black.

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

'Tis a fault to Heaven, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd.

Ibid. Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

i “Can walk" in White2 "Eastern hill" in Dyce, Singer, Staunton, and White. 8 "One auspicious and one dropping eye” in Dyce, Singer, and Staunton.

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