The service and the loyalty I owe, / In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness’ part / Is to receive our duties: and our duties / Are to your throne and state, children and servants; / Which do but what they should, by doing everything / Safe toward your love and honour.

But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to th' everlasting bonfire.

We have lost best half of our affair.

I drink to the general joy o’ th’ whole table, / And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss: / Would he were here.

Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous / It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain / To kill their gracious father? damned fact! / How it did grieve Macbeth!

That will never be: / Who can impress the forest; bid the tree / Unfix his earth-bound root?

Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? / But yet I'll make assurance double sure, / And take a bond of fate.

Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.

the king-becoming graces, / As justice, verity, temp’rance, stableness, / Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, / Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, / I have no relish of them;

If he had been forgotten, / It had been as a gap in our great feast, / And all-thing unbecoming.