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GENT. >>: Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed,
throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take
forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and
again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
DOCT. >>: In this slumb'ry agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances,
what, at any time, have you heard her say?
GENT. >>:That, sir, which I will not report after her.
DOCT. >>:You may to me, and 'tis most meet you should.
GENT. >>: Neither to you nor any one, having no witness to confirm my speech.
Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise, and upon my life, fast asleep.
Observe her, stand close.
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.
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 *** for the dignity of the whole body.
DOCT. >>: Well, well, well.
GENT. >>: Pray God it be, sir.
DOCT. >>: This disease is beyond my practice
LADY M. >>: Wash your hands, put on your night-gown, look not so pale. I tell you yet again,
Banquo's buried; he cannot come out on 's grave.
DOCT. >>: Even so?
LADY M. >>: 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.
DOCT. >>: Will she go now to bed?
GENT. >>: Directly.
DOCT. >>: Foul whisp'rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their
secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician.
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her, Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her. So good night. My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.
GENT. >>: Good night, good doctor.