| Macduff
|
| Who are you
|
| Once you were loyal
|
| Once you were true
|
| Run to England
|
| To stand against me
|
| I will burn your castle
|
| I will slay, your family
|
| How can I be loyal
|
| To a murderer that stole the crown
|
| How can I be loyal
|
| To a tvrant
|
| That takes my country down
|
| We’ll take revenge for all the lives you stole —
|
| Macbeth
|
| The sins you did in the end you’ll fall —
|
| Macbeth
|
| We’ll take revenge and put you down, in the
|
| End we’ll seize the crown
|
| I’ll take revenge for all the lives you stole —
|
| Macbeth
|
| Macduff
|
| Look and see
|
| Here are the bloody corpses
|
| Of your family
|
| Burried dead
|
| In a nameless grave
|
| My lust for blood
|
| Will make me safe
|
| I’ve cried a thousand tears
|
| In the shadows of the lonely night
|
| As the tears run dry
|
| You tyrant
|
| I know that I must fight
|
| Lo you, here she comes. |
| This is her very guise, and, upon my life, fast asleep.
|
| Observe her. |
| Stand close
|
| You see her eyes are open
|
| Ay, but their sense are shut
|
| What is it she does now? |
| Look how she rubs her hands
|
| It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands.
|
| I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour
|
| Yet here’s a spot. |
| Out, damned spot; |
| out, I say. |
| Hell is murky. |
| Fie, my lord,
|
| fie, a soldier and afeard? |
| What need we fear who knows it when none can call
|
| our power to account? |
| Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so
|
| much blood in him? |
| … Macduff the Thane of Fife had a wife. |
| Where is she now?
|
| What, will these hands ne’er be clean? |
| No more o' that, my lord,
|
| no more o' that. |
| No more
|
| What a sigh is there! |
| The heart is sorely charged
|
| I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body
|
| Wash your hands, put on your nightgown, look not so pale. |
| I tell you yet again,
|
| Banquo’s buried. |
| He cannot come out on 's grave. |
| To bed, to bed.
|
| There’s a knocking at the gate. |
| Come, give me your hand. |
| What’s done cannot be
|
| undone. |
| To bed, to bed, to bed |