 | Lady Macbeth |  |
SCENE I.
LADY.Where may I shun this omnipresent horror
That scares my every sense, and fills my soul.
My shadow turns the monitor of guilt,
And, pointing with its unsubstantial hand,
Seems the precursor of avenging justice;
While the shrill ring of arms, distributing
To all the servants, sounds as awfully
As the deep-tolling of a passing bell.
| Lady Macbeth | |