Banquo.
How goes the night, Boy?

Fleame.
I have not heard the Clock,

But the Moon is down.

Banq.
And she goes down at twelve.

Flea.
I take't 'tis late Sir, [Ex. Fleam.

Banq.
An heavy summons lies like lead upon me;
Nature wou'd have me sleep, and yet I fain wou'd wake:
Merciful powers restrain me in these cursed thoughts
That thus disturb my rest. Enter Macbeth and Servant.
Who's there? Macbeth, a friend.

Banq.
What, Sir, not yet at rest? the King's a-bed;
He has been to night in an unusual pleasure:
He to your servants has been bountiful,
And with this Diamond he greets your wife
By the obliging name of most kind Hostess.

Macb.
The King taking us unprepar'd, restrain'd our power
Of serving him; which else should have wrought more free.

Banq.
All's well.
I dream'd last night of the three weyward Sisters
To you they have shewn some truth.

Macb.
I think not of them;
Yet, when we can intreat an hour or two,
We'l spend it in some wood upon that business.

Banq.
At your kindest leisure.

Macb.
If when the Prophesie begins to look like truth
You will adhere to me, it shall make honour for you.

Banq.
So I lose none in seeking to augment it, but still
Keeping my bosom free, and my Allegiances dear,
I shall be counsell'd.

Macb.
Good repose the while.

Banq.
The like to you, Sir. [Ex. Banquo.

Macb.
Go bid your Mistress, when she is undrest,
To strike the Closet-bell and I'le go to bed.
Is this a dagger which I see before me?
The hilt draws towards my hand; come, let me grasp 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 brain, opprest with hear.
My eyes are made the fools of th'other senses;

Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still,
And on thy blade are stains of recking blood.
It is the bloody business that thus
Informs my eye-sight; now, to half the world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams infect
The health of sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Heccate's Offerings; now murder is
Alarm'd by his nights Centinel: the wolf,
Whose howling seems the watch-word to the dead:
But whilst I talk, he lives: hark, I am summon'd;
O Duncan, hear it not, for 'tis a bell
That rings my Coronation, and thy Knell. [Exit. Enter Lady Macbeth.

La. Macb.
That which made them drunk, has made me bold;
What has quenched them, hath given new fire to me.
Heark; oh, it was the Owl that shriek'd;
The fatal Bell-man that oft bids good night
To dying men, he is about it; the doors are open,
And whilst the surfeited Grooms neglect their charges for sleep,
Nature and death are now contending in them. Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
Who's there?

La. Macb.
Alas I am afraid they are awak'd,
And 'tis not done; the attempt without the deed
Would ruine us. I laid the daggers ready,
He could not miss them; and had he not resembl'd
My Father, as he slept, I would have don't
My Husband.

Macb.
I have done the deed, didst thou not hear a noise?

La. Macb.
I heard the Owl scream, and the Crickets cry,
Did not you speak?

Macb.
When?

La. Macb.
Now.

Macb.
Who lies i'th' Anti-chamber?

La. Macb.
Donalbain.

Macb.
This is a dismal fight.

La. Macb.
A foolish thought to say a dismal sight.

Macb.
There is one did laugh as he securely slept,
And one cry'd Murder, that they wak'd each other.
I stood and heard them; but they said their Prayers,

And then addrest themselves to sleep again.

La Macb.
There are two lodg'd together.

Macb.
One cry'd, Heaven bless us, the other said, Amen:
As they had seen me with these Hang-mans hands,
Silenc'd with fear, I cou'd not say Amen
When they did say, Heaven bless us.

La. Macb.
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.

La. Macb.
These deeds shou'd be forgot as soon as done,
Lest they distract the doer.

Macb.
Methoughts I heard a noise cry, sleep no more:
Macbeth has murder'd sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that locks up the senses from their care;
The death of each days life; tir'd labours bath;
Balm of hurt; minds great natures second course;
Chief nourisher in life's feast.

La. Macb.
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.

La. Macb.
Why do you dream thus? go get some water
And cleanse this filthy witness from your hands.
Why did you bring the daggers from the place?
They must be there, go carry them, and stain
The sleep Grooms with blood.

Macb.
I'le go no more;
I am afraid to think what I have done.
What then with looking on it, shall I do?

La. Macb.
Give me the daggers, the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted Devil: with his blood
I'le stain the faces of the Grooms; by that
It will appear their guilt. [Ex. La. Macbeth. [Knock within.

Macb.
What knocking's that?
How is't with me, when every noise affrights me?
What hands are here! can the Sea afford
Water enough to wash way the stains?

No, they would sooner add a tincture to
The Sea, and turn the green into a red. Enter Lady Macbeth.

La. Macbeth.
My hands are of your colour; but I scorn
To wear an heart so white. Heark, [Knock.
I hear a knocking at the Gate: to your Chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed.
Your fear has left you unmann'd; heark, more knoching.
Get on your Gown, lest occasions call us,
And shews us to be watchers; be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts. [Exit.

Macb.
Disguis'd in blood, I scarce can find my way.
Wake Duncan with this knocking, wou'd thou could'st. [Exit. Enter Lenox and Macbeth's Servant.

Lenox.
You sleep soundly, that so much knocking
Could not wake you.

Serv.
Labour by day causes rest by night. Enter Macduff.

Len.
See the noble Macduff.
Good morrow my Lord, have you observ'd
How great a mist does now possess the air;
It makes me doubt whether't be day or night.

Macd.
Rising this morning early, I went to look out of my
Window, and I cou'd scarce see farther than my breath:
The darkness of the night brought but few objects
To our eyes, but too many to our ears.
Strange claps and creekings of the doors were heard;
The Screech-Owl with his screams, seem'd to foretel
Some deed more black than night. Enter Macbeth.

Macd.
Is the King stirring?

Macb.
Not yet.

Macd.
He did command me to attend him early;
I have almost slip'd the hour.

Macb.
I'll bring you to him.

Macd.
I know this is a joyful trouble to you.

Macb.
The labour we delight in, gives;
That door will bring you to him.

Macd.
I'll make bold to call; for 'tis my limited service. [Ex. Macd

Len.
Goes the King hence to day?

Macb.
So he designs.

Len.
The night has been unruly:
Where we lay, our chimneys were blown down;
And, as they say, terrible groanings were heard ith' air:
Strange screams of death, which seem'd to prophesie
More strange events, fill'd divers,
Some say the Earth shook.

Macb.
'Twas a rough night.

Len.
My young remembrance cannot recollect its fellow. Enter Macduff.

Macd.
Oh horror! horror! horror!
Which no heart can conceive, nor tongue can utter.

Macb. Len.
What's the matter?

Macd.
Horror has done its worst:
Most sacrilegious murder has broke open
The Lord's anointed Temple, and stole thence
The life o'th' building.

Macb.
What is't you say; the life?

Len.
Meaning his Majesty.

Macd.
Approach the Chamber, and behold a sight
Enough to turn spectators into stone.
I cannot speak, see, and then speak your selves:
Ring the Alarum-bell. Awake, awake, Ex. Macb. and Len.
Murther, Treason; Banquo, Malcom, and Donalbain,
Shake of your downy sleep, Death's counterfeit;
And look on Death it self; up, up, and see,
As from your Graves, rise up, and walk like spirits
To countenance this horror; ring the Bell. [Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.

La. Macb.
What's the business, that at this dead of night
You alar'm us from our rest?

Macd.
O, Madam!
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition in a womans ear
Would do another murther. Enter Banquo.
Oh Banquo, Banquo, our Royal Master's murther'd!

La. Macb.
Ah me! in our house?

Banq.
The deed's too cruel any where, Macduff;

Oh, that you could but contradict your self,
And say it is not true. 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 in't worth a good mans care;
All is but toys, Renown and Grace are dead. Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain.

Donal.
What is amiss?

Macb.
You are, and do not know't:
The spring, the head, the fountain of your bloud
Is stop'd; the very source of it is stop'd.

Macd.
Your Royal Father's murther'd.

Malc.
Murther'd! by whom?

Len.
Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't;
Their hands and faces were all stain'd with bloud:
So were their Daggers, which we found unwip'd,
Upon their Pillows. Why was the life of one,
So much above the best of men, entrusted
To the hands of two, so much below
The worst of beasts?

Macb.
Then I repent me I so rashly kill'd e'm.

Macd.
Why did you so?

Macb.
Who can be prudent and amaz'd together;
Loyal and neutral in a moment? No man.
Th'expedition of my violent love
Out-ran my pausing reason: I saw Duncan,
Whose gaping wounds look'd like a breach in nature,
Where ruine enter'd there. I saw the Murtherers
Steep'd in the colours of their trade; their Daggers
Being yet unwip'd, seem'd to own the deed,
And call for vengeance; who could then refrain,
That had an heart to love; and in that heart
Courage to manifest his affection?

La. Macb.
Oh, oh, oh. [Faints.

Macd.
Look to the Lady.

Mal.
Why are we silent now, that have so large
An argument for sorrow?

Donal.
What should be spoken here, where our Fate may rush
Suddenly upon us, and as if it lay

Hid in some corner; make our death succeed
The ruine of our Father e're we are aware.

Macd.
I find this place too publick for true sorrow:
Let us retire, and mourn: but first,
Guarded by Vertue, I am resolv'd to find
The utmost of this business.

Banq.
And I.

Macb.
And all.
Let all of us take manly resolution;
And two hours hence meet together in the Hall
To question this most bloudy Fact.

Banq.
We shall be ready, Sir. [Ex. all but Malc. and Donalb.

Malc.
What will you do?
Let's not consort with them:
To shew an unfelt-sorrow, is an office
Which false men do with ease.
I'll to England.

Donal.
To Ireland I'm resolv'd to steer my course;
Our separated fortune may protect our persons
Where we are: Daggers lie hid under mens smiles,
And the nearer some men are allied to our bloud,
The more, I fear, they seek to shed it.

Malc.
This murtherous Shaft that's shot,
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim: then let's to horse,
And use no ceremony in taking leave of any. [Exeunt.

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