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Madam I will.
Say to my husband, Macbeth, I would attend his leisure for a few words.
How now, my lord! Why do you keep alone, Of sorriest fancies your companions making, Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
Be bright and jovial Among your guests tonight.
You must leave this.
Oh, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
What’s to be done?
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day
Thou marvel’st at my words: but hold thee still. Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. So, prithee, go with me.
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