Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Mac. Thou art the best o'th'Cut‑throats,
Mac. Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans:
Mac. If thou did'st it, thou art the Non‑pareill.
Mur. Mur.
Mur. Most Royall Sir
Mur. Fleans is scap'd.
Macb. Macb.
Macb. Then comes my Fit againe:
Macb. I had else beene perfect;
Macb. Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke,
Macb. As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre:
Macb. But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in
Macb. To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe?
Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
Mur. With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
Mur. The least a Death to Nature.
Macb. Thankes for that:
Macb. There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled