Page 2129 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

MACBETH

Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appal the devil.

LADY
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear. [60]

This is the air-drawn dagger which you said
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,
Impostors to true fear, would well become
A woman’s story at a winter’s fire,

Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all’s done
You look but on a stool.

MACBETH
Prithee, see there!

Behold! Look! Lo! − How say you?
Why, what care I if thou canst nod! Speak, too!
If charnel-houses and our graves must send [70]
Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

Exit Ghost.

LADY
What, quite unmanned in folly?

MACBETH
If I stand here, I saw him.

LADY
Fie, for shame!

MACBETH
Blood hath been shed ere now, i’the olden time,

Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed