Ban.
How goes the night, boy?

Fle.
The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

Ban.
And she goes down at twelve.

Fle.
I take't, 'tis later, sir.

Ban.
Hold, take my sword:—There's husbandry in heaven^{5 note}
,
Their candles are all out^{6 note}

A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: Merciful powers!
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose^{7 note}

Macb.
A friend.

Ban.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your officers^{8 note}

This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up^{9 note}

Macb.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought^{1 note}

Ban.
All's well^{2 note}.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.

Macb.
I think not of them:
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
Would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.

Ban.
At your kind'st leisure.

Macb.
If you shall cleave to my consent,—when 'tis^{3 note}

Ban.
So I lose none,
In seeking to augment it, but still keep

My bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsel'd.

Macb.
Good repose, the while!

Ban.
Thanks, sir; The like to you! [Exit Banquo.

Macb.
Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready^{4 note},
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. [Exit Servant.
Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:—
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood^{5 note}

The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates^{8 note}

Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost^{9 note}

Hear not my steps, which way they walk^{2 note}

And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it^{4 note}

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me^{6 note}
.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell^{7 note}

Previous section

Next section