Macbeth
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- Malcolm
- All your father's murdered!
- By whom?
- Macduff
- Oh no!
- Oh, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them.
- Malcolm
- Wherefore did you so?
- What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid in an auger-hole, may rush and seize us?
- Let's away!
- Call end
- Nor our strong sorrow. Upon the foot of motion. To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us.
- What shall we do? Let’s not consort with them.
- To Ireland, Fleance and I. Our separated fortuneShall keep us the safer. Where we are,There’s daggers in men’s smiles. The near in blood,The nearer bloody.
- To show an unfelt sorrow is an officeWhich the false man does easy. I’ll to England.
- This murderous shaft that’s shotHath not yet lighted, and our safest wayIs to avoid the aim.
- And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,But shift away. There’s warrant in that theftWhich steals itself when there’s no mercy left.
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