A guilt-ridden Barry tries to wash the blood from his hands

When Lady Macbeth somnambulantly monologues about the imaginary bloodstains that cover her hands in Act V Scene 1 of Macbeth (“Out, damned spot! out, I say!”; “What, will these hands ne’er be clean?”; “All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand”; yada, yada, yada…), her soul can no longer be saved.…

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