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 Imposters to true fear would well become A women'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 .
What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The armed rhinoceros, or th'Hyrcan tiger, Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: or be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword; If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mock'ry, hence!
Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine is blanched with fear .
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him: at once, good night. Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
What sights, my lord ?
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