Body & Soul0 min ago
Local Church Quiz
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In which context would Lady Macbeth be called a Saint (Getting steamed up may help you)
Sorry no letters given
In which context would Lady Macbeth be called a Saint (Getting steamed up may help you)
Sorry no letters given
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Enter LADY MACBETH, with a taper.
Gen. Lo you! here she comes. This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.
Doct. How came she by that light?
Gen. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; ’tis her command.
Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Gen. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
Gen. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her to continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady M. Yet here’s a spot.
Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! One; two: why, then, ’tis time to do ’t. 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?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. 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: you mar all with this starting.
Gen. Lo you! here she comes. This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.
Doct. How came she by that light?
Gen. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; ’tis her command.
Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Gen. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
Gen. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her to continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady M. Yet here’s a spot.
Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! One; two: why, then, ’tis time to do ’t. 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?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. 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: you mar all with this starting.
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