Macbeth by William Shakespeare
page 22 of 110 (20%)
page 22 of 110 (20%)
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And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe,
Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre, Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye, That teares shall drowne the winde. I haue no Spurre To pricke the sides of my intent, but onely Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it selfe, And falles on th' other. Enter Lady. How now? What Newes? La. He has almost supt: why haue you left the chamber? Mac. Hath he ask'd for me? La. Know you not, he ha's? Mac. We will proceed no further in this Businesse: He hath Honour'd me of late, and I haue bought Golden Opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worne now in their newest glosse, Not cast aside so soone La. Was the hope drunke, Wherein you drest your selfe? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now to looke so greene, and pale, At what it did so freely? From this time, Such I account thy loue. Art thou affear'd To be the same in thine owne Act, and Valour, As thou art in desire? Would'st thou haue that Which thou esteem'st the Ornament of Life, And liue a Coward in thine owne Esteeme? Letting I dare not, wait vpon I would, |
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