I think not of them: Is this a dagger which I see before me, Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. We would spend it in some words upon that business, I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. If you would grant the time. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but BANQUO A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? At your kind'st leisure. I see thee yet, in form as palpable MACBETH As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, And such an instrument I was to use. It shall make honour for you. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, BANQUO Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, So I lose none Which was not so before. There's no such thing: In seeking to augment it, but still keep It is the bloody business which informs My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld I shall be counsell'd. Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates MACBETH Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, Good repose the while! Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. BANQUO With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Thanks, sir: the like to you! Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, MACBETH Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. A bell rings Exit Servant
I think not of them: Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, We would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time. BANQUO At your kind'st leisure. MACBETH If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It shall make honour for you. BANQUO So I lose none In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, I shall be counsell'd. MACBETH Good repose the while! BANQUO Thanks, sir: the like to you! Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE MACBETH Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Exit Servant Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. A bell rings