That memory,the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume,and the receipt of reason A limbeck only:when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan?what not put upon His spongy officers,who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell? MACBETH Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males.Will it not be received, When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, That they have done't? LADY MACBETH Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death? MACBETH I am settled,and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away,and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt] Act2 Scene 1 MACBETH Go bid thy mistress,when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell.Get thee to bed. [Exit Servant] Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?Come,let me clutch thee I have thee not,and yet I see thee still Art thou not,fatal vision,sensible To feeling as to sight?or art thou but A dagger of the mind,a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet,in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses, Or else worth all the rest;I see thee still,That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell? MACBETH Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be received, When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, That they have done't? LADY MACBETH Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death? MACBETH I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt] Act 2 Scene 1 MACBETH Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. [Exit Servant] Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still