DONALBAIN. What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid in an auger hole, may rush, and seize us? Let’s away. Our tears are not yet brew’d.

MALCOLM. Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion.

BANQUO. Look to the lady:—

[_Lady Macbeth is carried out._]

And when we have our naked frailties hid, That suffer in exposure, let us meet, And question this most bloody piece of work To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: In the great hand of God I stand; and thence Against the undivulg’d pretence I fight Of treasonous malice.

MACDUFF. And so do I.