Macb. Good repose, the while? Ban. Thanks, sir; the like to you! [Exeunt FLEANCE and BANQUO. Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Is this a dagger, which I see before me, [Exit SEYTON. The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not; and yet I see thee still. To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, Towards his design Moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horror from the time, [A Clock strikes Two. |