Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature. It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness 17 To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great, Art not without ambition, but without 19 The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, 20 That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win.
