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 possets^{2 note}

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?

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}

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}

Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast^{7 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 devil^{8 note}

. If he do bleed,
I'll ^{9 note}

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 blood^{1 note}