The attempt, and not the deed,
Confound us.
Act ii. Sc. 2.
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care.
Act ii. Sc. 2.
Infirm of purpose!
Act ii. Sc. 3.
The labor we delight in, physics pain.
Act ii. Sc. 3.
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.