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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!--

 I'll not meddle with it,--it makes a man coward; I am not treacherous. A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, God keep you from them and from such false friends! By false intelligence or wrong surmise, No less in truth than life: my first false speaking A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? What, frighted with false fire! That treason can but peep to what it would, False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, I am not treacherous. No less in truth than life: my first false speaking O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou canst not then be false to any man. Then yield thee, coward, And I for comfort have but one false glass, False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, And ever three parts coward,--I do not know For false forswearing, and for murder too: Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward. Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.