SCENE I.
Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a torch before him.
3 noteBan.
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,
Their candles are all out 9Q0521.—Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: 4 note
Merciful powers!
-- 493 --
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose!—Give me my sword;—
Enter Macbeth, and a servant with a torch.
Who's there?
Macb.
A friend.
Ban.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
He hath5 note been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your officers:
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up6 note
In measureless content,
Macb.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought7 note
.
Ban.
All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weïrd sisters:
-- 494 --
To you they have shew'd some truth.
Macb.
I think not of them:
Yet, when we can intreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.
Ban.
At your kind'st leisure.
Macb.
8 note
If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
It shall make honour for you.
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,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[Exit Serv.
Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me 9 note
clutch thee:—
-- 495 --
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;
1 note
And on thy blade, and dudgeon, 2 note
gouts of blood,
-- 496 --
Which was not so before.—There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes.—3 note
Now o'er the one half world
-- 497 --
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep4 note; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; 5 note
and wither'd murder,
-- 498 --
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
6 note
With Tarquin's ravishing strides 9Q0524, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.—7 note
Thou sure and firm-set earth,
-- 499 --
Hear not my steps, 8 note
which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about9 note
,
1 note
And take the present horror from the time,
-- 500 --
Which now suits with it.—While I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
[Exit.
-- 501 --
SCENE II.
Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold;
What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:—Hark!—Peace!
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell-man,
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd their possets2 note
,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live, or die.
Macb. [Within.]
Who's there?—what, ho!
Lady.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done:—the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us:—Hark!—I laid their daggers ready,
He could not miss them.—3 note
Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had don't.—My husband?
-- 502 --
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
I have done the deed:—Didst thou not hear a noise?
Lady.
I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macb.
When?
Lady.
Now.
Macb.
As I descended?
Lady.
Ay.
Macb.
Hark!—Who lies i'the second chamber?
Lady.
Donalbain.
Macb.
This is a sorry sight.
[Looking on his hands.
Lady.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
Macb.
There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry'd, murder!
That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
Again to sleep.
Lady.
There are two lodg'd together.
Macb.
One cry'd, God bless us! and, Amen, the other;
As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands,
4 note
Listening their fear. I could not say, amen,
-- 503 --
When they did say, God bless us.
Lady.
Consider it not so deeply.
Macb.
But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen?
I had most need of blessing, and amen
Stuck in my throat.
Lady.
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb.
Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd 5 note
sleave of care,
6 note
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
-- 504 --
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast7 note
;—
Lady.
What do you mean?
Macb.
Still it cry'd, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady.
Who was it, that thus cry'd? Why, worthy thane,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brain-sickly of things:—Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.—
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: Go, carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.
Macb.
I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again, I dare not.
Lady.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: The sleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil8 note
. If he do bleed,
I'll 9 note
gild the faces of the grooms withal,
-- 505 --
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit. Knocking within.
Macb.
Whence is that knocking!
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood1 note
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas 2 note
incarnardine 9Q0526,
Making the green—one red3 note
note, first made this
elegant and necessary change, which has hitherto been adopted
without acknowledgment.
Steevens.
9Q0527.
-- 506 --
Re-enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
My hands are of your colour 9Q0528; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. I hear a knocking
[Knock.
At the south entry;—retire we to our chamber:
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then? Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.—Hark! more knocking:
[Knock.
Get on your night-gown, lest occasion call us,
And shew us to be watchers:—Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts,
Macb.
4 note
To know my deed,—'Twere best not know myself.
[Knock.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would, thou couldst!
[Exeunt.
-- 507 --
SCENE III.
Enter a Porter.
[Knocking within.]
Port.
Here's a knocking, indeed!
If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should
have old turning the key. [Knock.] Knock, knock,
knock: Who's there, i'the name of Belzebub? Here's
a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of
plenty: come in time; have napkins 5 note
enough about
you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knock.] Knock, knock:
Who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith, 6 notehere's
an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales
against either scale; who committed treason enough
for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven:
oh, come in, equivocator. [Knock.] Knock, knock,
knock: Who's there? 'Faith, 7 note
here's an English taylor
-- 508 --
come hither, for stealing out of a French hose:
come in, taylor; here you may roast your goose.
[Knock] Knock, knock: Never at quiet! What are
you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter
it no further: I had thought to have let in some
of all professions, that go the primrose way to the
everlasting bonfire. [Knock] Anon, anon; I pray you,
remember the porter.
Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
Mac.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?
Port.
'Faith, sir, we were carousing 'till the second
cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three
things.
Macd.
What three things doth drink especially
provoke?
Port.
Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes
the desire, but it takes away the performance:
Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator
with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him;
it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not
stand to: in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep,
and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
-- 509 --
Macd.
I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night.
Port.
That it did, sir, i'the very throat o'me: But
I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too
strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime,
yet 8 note
I made a shift to cast him.
Macd.
Is thy master stirring?—
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Len.
Good-morrow, noble sir!
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
Good-morrow, both!
Macd.
Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
Macb.
Not yet.
Macd.
He did command me to call timely on him;
I have almost slipt the hour.
Macb.
I'll bring you to him.
Macd.
I know, this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet, 'tis one.
Macb.
The labour we delight in, physicks pain.
This is the door.
Macd.
I'll make so bold to call,
For 'tis my limited service9 note.
[Exit Macduff.
Len.
Goes the king hence to-day?
Macb.
He does: he did appoint so.
Len.
The night has been unruly: Where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say,
-- 510 --
Lamentings heard i'the air; 1 note
strange screams of death;
And prophesying, with accents terrible,9Q0530
Of dire combustion, and confus'd events,
New hatch'd to the woeful time: The obscure bird
Clamour'd the live-long night: some say, the earth
Was feverous, and did shake.
Macb.
'Twas a rough night.
Len.
My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.
Re-enter Macduff.
Macd.
O horror! horror! horror! 2 note
Tongue, nor heart,
-- 511 --
Cannot conceive, nor name thee!
Macb. and Len.
What's the matter?
Macd.
Confusion now hath made his master-piece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o'the building.
Macb.
What is't you say? the life?
Len.
Mean you his majesty?
Macd.
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake! awake!—
[Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.
Ring the alarum-bell:—Murder! and treason!
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!—up, up, and see
The great doom's image!—Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
To countenance 3 notethis horror!9Q0531—Ring the bell.
Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak,—
Macd.
O, gentle lady,
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition in a woman's ear,
Would murder as it fell.—O Banquo! Banquo!
-- 521 --
Enter Banquo.
Our royal master's murder'd!
Lady.
Woe, alas!
4 noteWhat, in our house?
Ban.
Too cruel, any where.—
5 note
Dear Duff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself,
And say, it is not so.
Re-enter Macbeth, and Lenox.
Macb.
Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain.
Don.
What is amiss?
Macb.
You are, and do not know it:
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopt; the very source of it is stopt.
Macd.
Your royal father's murder'd.
-- 513 --
Mal.
Oh, by whom?
Len.
Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood6 note
,
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows; they star'd, and were distracted;
No man's life was to be trusted with them.
Macb.
O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Macd.
Wherefore did you so?
Macb.
Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and furious,
Loyal and neutral in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Out-ran the pauser reason.—7 note
Here lay Duncan,
-- 514 --
8 noteHis silver skin lac'd with his golden blood 9Q0533;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
9 note
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,
-- 515 --
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?
-- 516 --
Lady.
Help me hence, ho!
Macd.
Look to the lady 9Q0534.
Mal.
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?
Don.
What should be spoken here,
Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,
May rush, and seize us? Let's away, our tears
Are not yet brew'd.
Mal.
Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.
Ban.
Look to the lady:—
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure1 note
, let us meet,
And question this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
2 note
In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence,
-- 517 --
Against the undivulg'd pretence 9Q0535 I fight
Of treasonous malice.
Macb.
And so do I.
All.
So all.
Macb.
Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
And meet i'the hall together.
All.
Well contented.
[Exeunt.
Mal.
What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
To shew an unfelt sorrow, is an office
Which the false man does easy: I'll to England.
Don.
To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody3 note
.
Mal.
4 note
This murderous shaft that's shot,
-- 518 --
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Rosse, with an Old Man.
Old M.
Threescore and ten I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time, I have seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
Rosse.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?
Old M.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On tuesday last,
A faulcon, towring 5 note
in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd.
Rosse.
And Duncan's horses, (a thing most strange, and certain)
-- 519 --
Beauteous, and swift, 6 note
the minions of their race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with mankind.
Old M.
'Tis said, they eat each other.
Rosse.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:—
Enter Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd.
Why, see you not?
Rosse.
Is't known, who did this more than bloody deed?
Macd.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Rosse.
Alas, the day!
7 note
What good could they pretend?
Macd.
They were suborn'd:
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Rosse.
'Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means!—Then 'tis most like8 note
,
-- 520 --
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macd.
He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone,
To be invested.
Rosse.
Where is Duncan's body?
Macd.
Carried to Colmes-kill9 note;
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.
Rosse.
Will you to Scone?
Macd.
No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Rosse.
Well, I will thither.
Macd.
Well, may you see things well done there;—adieu!—
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Rosse.
Farewel, father.
Old M.
God's benison to go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
