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...once start me. Re-enter SEYTON-. Wherefore was that cry ? SEY. The queen, my lord, is dead. K. MACH. s brow-bound with the oak. His pupil-age Man-enter'd...And, in the brunt of seventeen battles since, He lur this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have...

...taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cooPd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell t of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir...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...

...night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in 't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar...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...

...night-shriek ; and my fell1 of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in 't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar...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...

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...with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me. He-enter SEYTON. Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. .Macb. She should...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...

...thoughts, Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry? Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. M'acb. She should have died hereafter; There would...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...

...with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Re-enter SEYTON. Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord,...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...

...whom and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying, or ere they sicken. ' . 2. She should have died hereafter: There would have been...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 ail our yesterdays have...