Out, damned 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 power to account?
Yet who would have have thought the old man to have
had so much blood in him?
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.
To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate. Come
come, come, come give me your hand. What's
done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
'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 power to account?
Yet who would have have thought the old man to have
had so much blood in him?
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.
To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate. Come
come, come, come give me your hand. What's
done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.