MACBETH. Whence is that knocking? How is’t with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha, 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.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

LADY MACBETH. My hands are of your color, but I shame To wear a heart so white. [_Knocking within._] I hear knocking At the south entry:—retire we to our chamber. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended.—[_Knocking within._] Hark, more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.

MACBETH. To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself. [_Knocking within._] Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!