himself is hoarse that announces the fatal
of Duncan under my battlements. Come, spirits that tend on mortal thoughts! Close in me all passage to remorse! Fill me from the crown to the
with the most terrible cruelty! Come, thick
, and hide yourself in the darkest smoke of hell, so that my knife can't see the
it makes, nor heaven can peep through the blanket of the dark to cry: ''Hold, hold!''
My lord! Your letter has
me beyond this ignorant present, and I feel now the future in the instant.
My dearest love, our
comes here tonight.
When does he leave?
He will never see the sun of tomorrow! We must take
of him tonight, for you to be the new king.