Stars, hide your fires, Let not light see my black and deep desires, The eye wink at the hand. Yet let that be, Which the eye fears when it is done to see. Macbeth's soliloquy opening the scene. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a bless d time, for from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality. Strange things I have in head that will to hand, Which must be acted ere they may be scanned.
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
Though all things foul would wear the brow of grace, Yet grace must still look so. Now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief. Therein the patient Must minister to himself. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it. The way to dusty death.