Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Macb. Goe bid thy Mistresse, when my drinke is ready,
Macb. She strike vpon the Bell. Get thee to bed.
Macb. Exit.
Macb. Is this a Dagger, which I see before me,
Macb. The Handle toward my Hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
Macb. I haue thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Macb. Art thou not fatall Vision, sensible
Macb. To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
Macb. A Dagger of the Minde, a false Creation,
Macb. Proceeding from the heat‑oppressed Braine?
Macb. I see thee yet, in forme as palpable,
Macb. As this which now I draw.
Macb. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going,
Macb. And such an Instrument I was to vse.
Macb. Mine Eyes are made the fooles o'th'other Sences,
Macb. Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
Macb. And on thy Blade, and Dudgeon, Gouts of Blood,
Macb. Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
Macb. It is the bloody Businesse, which informes
Macb. Thus to mine Eyes. Now o're the one halfe World