Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim Upon the sightless couriers of the air, no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself, And falls on the other side.-How now? what news! 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 And then is heard no more; it is a tale DUNCAN is in his grave; Lady. He has almost supp'd; why THE REPOSE OF THE GRAVE. have you left the chamber? Macb. Hath he asked for me? Lady. Know you not he has ? Mach. We will proceed no further in this business : He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in the newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady. And wakes it now, to look so green and At what it did so freely? From this time afeard To be the same in thine own act and After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, THE VISIONARY DAGGER. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was And such an instrument I was to use. senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before.-There's no It is the bloody business, which informs REMORSE. WHENCF is that knocking? How is 't with me, when every noise appals me? And dizzy 't is to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring bark, Diminished to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high :-I'll look ne The fancy outwork nature: on each side CLEOPATRA'S SPEECH ON AP. her, Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, helm A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flowersoft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Whistling to the air; which, but for PLYING THE SERPENT TO GIVE me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick-Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself THE FOOL IN THE FOREST. A FOOL, a fool!—I met a fool i' the forest, And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good |