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Modern Text |
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LADY MACBETH You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
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LADY MACBETH You haven’t slept.
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MACBETH Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use.
150We are yet but young in deed.
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MACBETH Yes, let’s go to sleep. My strange self-delusions just
come from inexperience. We’re still just beginners when it
comes to crime.
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Exeunt
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They exit.
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