You may to me, and 'tis most meet you should.

GENT. Neither to you nor any one, having no witness to confirm my speech.

 

Enter Lady [Macbeth] with a taper.

 

Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise, and upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her, stand close.

DOCT. How came she by that light?

GENT. Why, it stood by her. She has light by her continually, 'tis her command.

DOCT. You see her eyes are open.

GENT. Ay, but their sense are shut.

DOCT. What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.

GENT. It is an accustom'd action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

LADY M. Yet here's a spot.

DOCT. Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

LADY M. Out, damn'd spot! out, I say! One – two – why then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

DOCT. Do you mark that?

LADY M. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that; you mar all with this starting.

DOCT. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

GENT. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that; heaven knows what she has known.

LADY M. Here's the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. O, O, O!

DOCT. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charg'd.

GENT. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.

DOCT. Well, well, well.

GENT. Pray God it be, sir.

DOCT. This disease is beyond my practice; yet I have known those which have walk'd in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.

LADY M. Wash your hands, put on your night-gown, look not so pale.