merciful powers restrain me in the cursed thought that nature gives way to in respose
is this a dagger which i see before me,the handle towards my hand?Come let me clutch thee...then marshall'st me the way i was going.
Had he not resembled my father as he slept, I had done't.
These deeds must not be thought after these ways; so it will make us mad
Will all great neptunes' ocean wash this blood clean from my hand
A little water clears us of this deed