Works, Volume 6 (Google eBook)

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Bell & Bradfute, J. Dickinson [and others], 1795
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Page 247 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 245 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Page 247 - When Duncan is asleep Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only...
Page 255 - Dear Duff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself, And say, it is not so. Re-enter MACBETH and LENOX. Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys : renown, and grace, is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
Page 45 - O, reason not the need : our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.
Page 87 - I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news ; and we'll talk with them too, Who loses, and who wins ; who's in, who's out ; And take...
Page 267 - 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.
Page 45 - You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! If it be you that stir these daughters...
Page 264 - Come, seeling* 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!
Page 291 - I have lived long enough : my way of life Is fall'n 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.

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