Anger and Indignation

Moloch, scepter’d king, Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit That fought in heav’n; now fiercer by despair.

Awake, arise, or be forever fallen!

What though the field be lost? All is not lost; th’ unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield.

Him the Almighty Power Hurl’d headlong flaming from th’ ethereal sky With hideous ruin and combustion down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy th’ Omnipotent to arms.

The infernal serpent; he it was, whose guile, Stirr’d up with envy and revenge, deceiv’d The mother of mankind.

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter’d saints, whose bones Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold; Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our fathers worshipp’d stocks and stones Forget not.

The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said; But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.

Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.

I struck the board, and cried, No more: I will abroad. What? shall I ever sigh and pine? My lines and life are free; free as the road, Loose as the wind, as large as store. Shall I be still in suit? Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me blood, and not restore What I have lost with cordial fruit? Sure there was wine Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn Before my tears did drown it; Is the year only lost to me? Have I no bays to crown it?

Press not a falling man too far. 61

You taught me language; and my profit on ’t Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you, For learning me your language!

I [Ariel] will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.

Slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds and doth belie All corners of the world.

Now he’ll outstare the lightning. To be furious Is to be frighted out of fear.

Lay on, Macduff, And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac’d loon! Where gott’st thou that goose look?

Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.

It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood: Stones have been known to move and trees to speak.

Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, hence!

Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me.

I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incens’d that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.

Murderer: We are men, my liege. Macbeth: Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole thence The life o’ the building!

The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts! unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top full Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers.