(Act 5 Scene 5, The Castle at Dunsinance, Lines 17-28)
MACBETH. "She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Now time for battle awaits for me. However, I found out that my lovely wife, Lady Macbeth has just died. The time is not right for death to be taking hold of me because I have urgent matters to take care of and no time to hold grief inside. Having a numb conscience to even think of sorrow in my mind has long past the time when my human nature had been destroyed making me an uncaring monster, but a hero to withstand such defeat against Macduff. Knowing now that Macduff would be the one to kill me, I find no meaning to live no more and die with this guilt to suffer in the depths of hell.
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