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| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| Page 125 |
| William Shakespeare. (1564–1616) (continued) |
| 1458 |
| 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. |
| 1459 |
| I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again. |
| Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 1460 |
| Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, “They come!” our castle’s strength Will laugh a siege to scorn. |
| Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5. |
| 1461 |
| My fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in ’t: I have supp’d full with horrors. |
| Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5. |
| 1462 |
| 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. |
| Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5. |
| 1463 |
| 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.” |
| Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5. |
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