Or art thou butA dagger of the mind, a false creation,Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain?I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw.
Scene 2
I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.Did not you speak?
I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?
Scene 2
Infirm of purpose!Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I’ll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.
I’ll go no more:I am afraid to think what I have done;Look on ’t again I dare not.
Scene 3
O Banquo, Banquo,Our royal master’s murdered!
Scene 3
Let’s not consort with them. To show an unfelt sorrow is an office which the false man does easy. I’ll to England.
Scene 4
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Is ’t known who did this more than bloody deed?
Alas, the day!What good could they pretend?
Woe, alas!What, in our house?
To Ireland, I. Our separated fortuneShall keep us both the safer. Where we are,There’s daggers in men’s smiles.