Lady Macbeth
Help me hence, ho!
Macduff
Look to the lady.
Malcolm
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?
Aside to Donalbain .
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.
Aside to Malcolm .
Malcolm
Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.
Aside to Donalbain .
Banquo
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: