William Shakespeare. Macbeth (№ 293546)

This supernatural call
Neither angry nor kind. When he's angry, why
He immediately sent me a guarantee of success
And commencing in a truth: I am Thane of Cawdor.
When he is good, why from the terrible dreams
On her head stirred the hair
And heart striking a rib,
In spite of the nature? The real fear
Not as intimidating as the delusions of imagination.
My dream, where the rose the murder of a Ghost
The peace of the soul is violated, all the forces
Idle, and dreams overshadowed
The whole world around.