Go to my wife when my drink is ready
She rang the bell, get her to bed
Is this a dagger which i see in front of me
Is the handle towards my hand? Let me hold it
It is not here but I can still see it
Is it a deathly vision
Is my sight the same as my feelings? Or is it
A dagger in my mind, a false creation,
Coming from my heat-opressed brain?
I see it yet, as real as
what i am telling you now.
It shows me which way to go,
and what instrument i am to use.
My eyes are the only one of my senses that is working,
Or it's the only one that is. I can still see
Blood on the handle of my blade
Which I couldn't see before. There' s no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
My eyes.
Nature seems dead and wicked dreams
Stop me from sleeping. Witchcraft celebrates
Hectate's sacrifices, and withered murder,
Alarmed by his wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Don’t echo my steps,
Because they will reveal my whereabouts
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. While I waste time, Duncan lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. A bell rings
I am going, and it is done. The bell invites me.
Don’t hear it Duncan, because it is a bell
that summons you to heaven or hell
Go to my wife when my drink is ready
She rang the bell, get her to bed
Is this a dagger which i see in front of me
Is the handle towards my hand? Let me hold it
It is not here but I can still see it
Is it a deathly vision
Is my sight the same as my feelings? Or is it
A dagger in my mind, a false creation,
Coming from my heat-opressed brain?
I see it yet, as real as
what i am telling you now.
It shows me which way to go,
and what instrument i am to use.
My eyes are the only one of my senses that is working,
Or it's the only one that is. I can still see
Blood on the handle of my blade
Which I couldn't see before. There' s no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
My eyes.
Nature seems dead and wicked dreams
Stop me from sleeping. Witchcraft celebrates
Hectate's sacrifices, and withered murder,
Alarmed by his wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Don’t echo my steps,
Because they will reveal my whereabouts
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. While I waste time, Duncan lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
A bell rings
I am going, and it is done. The bell invites me.
Don’t hear it Duncan, because it is a bell
that summons you to heaven or hell