Is this a dagger which i see before me
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
I have thee not, and yet i thee still
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse/ the curtain’d sleep
Hear it not, duncan; for it is knell / that summons thee to heaven or hell
Had he not resembled / my father as he slept, i had done’t
I have done the deed
This is a very sorry sight
Will all great neptunes ocean wash this blood/ clean from my hand
A little water clears us of this deed
Macbeth does murder sleep
The lords anointed temple
Theres daggers in mens smiles