^{3 note}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,
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!

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 hath^{5 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 up^{6 note}

Macb.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought^{7 note}

.

Ban.
All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weïrd sisters:

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}

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}

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}

Which was not so before.—There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes.—^{3 note}

Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep^{4 note}; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; ^{5 note}

Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
^{6 note}