Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Macb. The Tragedie of Macbeth.
Lady. Lady.
Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne.
Macb. Macb.
Macb. There's comfort yet, they are assaileable,
Macb. Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne
Macb. His Cloyster'd flight, ere to black Heccats summons
Macb. The shard‑borne Beetle, with his drowsie hums,
Macb. Hath rung Nights yawning Peale,
Macb. There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note.
Lady. What's to be done?
Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest Chuck,
Macb. Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night,
Macb. Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
Macb. And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand
Macb. Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
Macb. Which keepes me pale. Light thickens,
Macb. And the Crow makes Wing toth'Rookie Wood: