Ban.
How goes the night, boy?

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

Ban.
And she goes down at twelve.

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

Ban.
Hold, take my sword. There's ^note husbandry in heaven ^note,
Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
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! ^note

Enter ^note Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch.
Give me my sword. ^note
Who's there? ^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 offices ^note:
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; ^note and shut up ^note
In measureless content. ^note

Macb.
Being unprepared,
Our will became the servant to defect,
Which else should free have wrought.

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

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

Ban.
At your kind'st ^note leisure ^note.

Macb.
If you shall cleave to my consent ^note, when 'tis
It shall make honour for you. ^note

Ban.
So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,

I shall be counsell'd.

Macb.
Good repose the while!

Ban.
Thanks, sir: the like to you! [Exeunt ^note Banquo and Fleance. ^note

Macb.
Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. [Exit Servant. ^note
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 marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use. ^note
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still; ^note
And on thy blade and dudgeon ^note gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus ^note to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world ^note
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep ^note; witchcraft ^note celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd ^note murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl 's ^note his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,

With Tarquin's ravishing strides, ^note towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure ^note and ^note firm-set earth,
Hear ^note not my steps, which way they ^note walk, for ^note fear
Thy ^note very stones prate of my whereabout ^note,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which ^note now suits with it. Whiles ^note I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. ^note [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. ^note

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