'They pluck out mine eyes.'

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?

No,

this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine,

making the green one red.

My hands are of your colour,

but I shame to wear a heart so white.

A little water clears us of this deed.

How easy is it then.

To know my deed

'twere best not know myself.

Good Macduff.

Good morrow, noble sir.

Good morrow, both.

Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?

- The King, is he stirring? - Not yet.

He did command me to call timely on him.

I have almost slipped the hour.

I'll bring you to him.

I'll make so bold to call.