macbeth

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1. Which of you have done this?
2. What, my good lord?
2. Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.
1. Thou canst not say I did it: never shakeThy gory locks at me.
Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;The fit is momentary; upon a thoughtHe will again be well: if much you note him,You shall offend him and extend his passion:Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
2. O proper stuff!This is the very painting of your fear:This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,Impostors to true fear, would well becomeA woman's story at a winter's fire,Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!Why do you make such faces? When all's done,You look but on a stool.
1. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on thatWhich might appall the devil.
1. What, quite unmann'd in folly?
3. Fie, for shame!
2. If I stand here, I saw him.
THE END

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