Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mal. Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill vp
Mal. The Cesterne of my Lust, and my Desire
Mal. All continent Impediments would ore‑beare
Mal. That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth,
Mal. Then such an one to reigne.
Macd. Macd.
Macd. Boundlesse intemperance
Macd. In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene
Macd. Th'vntimely emptying of the happy Throne,
Macd. And fall of many Kings. But feare not yet
Macd. To take vpon you what is yours: you may
Macd. Conuey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
Macd. And yet seeme cold. The time you may so hoodwinke:
Macd. We haue willing Dames enough: there cannot be
Macd. That Vulture in you, to deuoure so many
Macd. As will to Greatnesse dedicate themselues,
Macd. Finding it so inclinde.
Mal. Mal.
Mal. With this, there growes
Mal. In my most ill‑compos'd Affection, such