Marcucci- Macbeth Act 2, Scene 1
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Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
Mine eyes are made fools o' the other senses, or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood
Nature seems dead, and wicked celebrates Pal Hecates offerings, and wither'd murder
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
Whiles I threat, he lives: words heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
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