Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mal. Come go we to the King, our Power is ready,
Mal. Our lacke is nothing but our leaue. Macbeth
Mal. Is ripe for shaking, and the Powres aboue
Mal. Put on their Instruments: Receiue what cheere you may,
Mal. The Night is long, that neuer findes the Day.
Mal. Exeunt
Mal. Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Mal. [Act 5, Scene 1]
Mal. Enter a Doctor of Physicke, and a Wayting
Mal. Gentlewoman.
Doct. Doct.
Doct. I haue too Nights watch'd with you, but can
Doct. perceiue no truth in your report. When was it shee last
Doct. walk'd?
Gent. Gent.
Gent. Since his Maiesty went into the Field, I haue
Gent. seene her rise from her bed, throw her Night‑Gown vp
Gent. pon her, vnlocke her Closset, take foorth paper, folde it,
Gent. write vpon't, read it, afterwards Seale it, and againe re
Gent. turne to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleepe.