Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mal. When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head,
Mal. Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country
Mal. Shall haue more vices then it had before,
Mal. More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer,
Mal. By him that shall succeede.
Macd. Macd.
Macd. What should he be?
Mal. Mal.
Mal. It is my selfe I meane: in whom I know
Mal. All the particulars of Vice so grafted,
Mal. That when they shall be open'd, blacke Macbeth
Mal. Will seeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State
Mal. Esteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd
Mal. With my confinelesse harmes.
Macd. Not in the Legions
Macd. Of horrid Hell, can come a Diuell more damn'd
Macd. In euils, to top Macbeth.
Mal. I grant him Bloody,