Yet do I fear thy nature. It is too full 0' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way.
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty!
Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters.
Was the hope drunk Wherein you dressed yourself?
Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
But screw your courage to the sticking place
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