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Text z Príbehu
What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's abed.
I think not of them. If you would grant the time, It shall make honor for you
I dreamt of the Weird Sisters.
And, on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts of blood, which was not so before. It is the bloody business which informs thus to mine eyes
Is this a dagger which I see before me? I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight?
I go, and it is done. The bell invites me. Hear it not Duncan, for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven or to hell.
Whiles I threat, he lives. Words to the heat of deed too cold breath gives.
I have done the deed.
Give me the daggers. I'll gild the faces of the grooms, for it must seem their guilt
O horror, horror, horror! Our royal master's murdered.
Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons, are stol'n away and fled, which puts upon them suspicion of the deed
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
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- OpenClipart-Vectors - (Licencie Free for Commercial Use / No Attribution Required (https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0) )
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