Gentlewoman: Lo you, here she comes.
These is her very guise;
and, upon my life, fast asleep.
Observe her; stand close.
Doctor: What is it she does now?
Look, how she rubs her hands.
Gentlewoman: It is an accustomed action with her,
to seem thus washing her hands:
Doctor: You see, her eyes are open.
Gentlewoman: Ay, but their sense is shut.
Lady Macbeth: Yet here's a spot.
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
Who would have thought the old man
to have so much blood in him.
Doctor: Did you mark that?
Lady Macbeth: The thane of Fife had a wife:
where is she now?
What, will these hands ne'er be clean?
Gentlewoman: She has spoke what she should not,
I am sure of that.
Lady Macbeth: To bed, to bed! There's a knocking at the gate:
What's done cannot be undone.
Doctor: I shall give her a draught to soothe her dreams.