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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,

 For a dark hour or twain. Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee.--Then fly, false thanes, In the affliction of these terrible dreams Making night hideous, and we fools of nature What thou art promis'd; yet do I fear thy nature; The fear of that holds off my present aid. What, do I fear myself? there's none else by: Against the use of nature? Present fears Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? Clarence,--whom I indeed have cast in darkness,-- Such hideous cries that, with the very noise, 
As if thou were distraught and mad with terror?
 Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided? Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
Am I to fear, or none.
 When mine are blanch'd with fear. Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear, The virtue of his will: but you must fear, O, fear me not. And prophesying, with accents terrible, To Brecknock while my fearful head is on! Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance: Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee.--Then fly, false thanes, Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,