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There take an inventory of all I have,
O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Crom: Good Sir, have patience.
Wol. So I have. Farewell
Blow winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow!
Rumble thy belly full, spit fire, spout rain!
ou owe me no subscription. Then let fall
yet I call you servile ministers,
Let the great gods,
Unwhipp'd of justice! Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
Is this a dagger which I see before me, Th' handle, toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee.I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the tools o'ih' other senses, Or else worth all the rest-I see thee still; And on the blade o'th' dudgeon, gouts of blood, Which was not so before.— There's no such thing.It is the bloody business, which informs Thus to mine eyes.- Now o’er one half the world Nature seems dead, and wicked creams abuse The curtain's sleep; now witclicraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings: and wither'd Murder, (Alarm’d by his centinel, the woll, Whose huwl's his watch,) thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, tow'rds his design Moves like a ghost.- Thou sound and firin-set earth. Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
The very stones prate of my where-about;
MACDUFF, MALCOLM, AND ROSSE.
MACD. See who comes here!
MAL. - I know him now, Good God, betimes remov The means that makes us strangers!
Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Rosse. Alas, poor country,
MACD. Oh, relation
Mal. What's the newest grief?
Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker; Each minute teems a new one. Maci). How does
Rosse. No; they were at peace when I did leave 'em. « MacD.
Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it?
MAL. Be't their comfort
Rosse. Would I could answer
MACD. What concern they?
Rosse. No mind that's honest,
Maćd. If it be mine,
Rosse. Let not your ear's despise my tongue for ever,
MACD. Hum! I guess at it.
Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd, your wife and babes Savagely slaughter'd! to relate the manner, Were on the
of these murder'd deer To add the death of you.
MAL. Merciful Heav'n!
Macu. My children too?.
MacD. And I'must be from thence! my wife kill'd too?
MAL. Be comforted.
Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones!
Mal. Endure it like a man.
Macd. I shall do so;
Did Heav'n look ong'
Mali Be this the whet-stone of your sword, let grief Convert to wrath; blunt not the heart, enrage il!
MacD. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle Heavo! Cut short all intermission : front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my sword's length set him, if he 'scape, Then Heav'n forgive him too!
MAL.' This tune goes manly. Come, ĝo we to the King, our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may ; The night is long that never finds the day.
ANTONY'S SOLILOQUY OVER CAESAR'S BODY.
O PARDON me, thou bleeding piece of earth! That I am meek and genile with these butchers. Thou art the ruins of the noblest man