Fleance; Servant with a Torch before them.
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:—Take thee that &dagger2; 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!—Give me my sword;—
Enter Macbeth, and Servant with a Torch.
Who's there?
Macb.
A friend.
Ban.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
He hath to-night been in unusual pleasure,
And sent great note largess to your officers note:
This &dagger2; diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and's shut up note
In measureless content.
-- 22 --
Macb.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought.
Ban.
All's very well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird 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.
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!
[Exeunt Banquo, Fleance, and Servant.
Macb.
Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[Exit Servant.
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 note brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this † which now I draw.
-- 23 --
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;
And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half note world14Q0502
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep: now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecat's offerings; and wither'd murther,
Alarum'd by his centinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides note, towards his desigh note
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and note firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk note, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. While I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[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.
SCENE II.
The same.
Enter Lady Macbeth.
L. Mb.
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
-- 24 --
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drug'd their possets,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live, or dye.
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
Who's there? what, ho!
L. Mb.
Alack, I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done; the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us:—Hark!—I lay'd their daggers ready,
He could not miss them. Had he not resembl'd
My father as he slept, I had don't.—My husband?
Macb.
I have done the deed: Didst thou not hear a noise?
L. Mb.
I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macb.
When?
L. Mb.
Now.
Macb.
As I descended?
L. Mb.
Ay.
Macb.
Hark!—Who lies i'the second chamber?
L. Mb.
Donalbain.
Macb.
This is a sorry sight.
[looking on his Hands.
L. Mb.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
[murther!
Macb.
There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry'd,
That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and addrest them
Again to sleep.
L. Mb.
There are two lodg'd together.
Macb.
One cry'd, God bless us! and, Amen, the other;
As they had seen me,14Q0503 with these hangman's hands,
List'ning their fear. I could not say, amen,
When they did say, God bless us.
L. Mb.
Consider it not so deeply.
Macb.
But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen?
-- 25 --
I had most need of blessing, and amen
Stuck in my throat.
L. Mb.
These deeds must not be thought on
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb.
Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murther sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravel'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast;—
L. Mb.
What do you mean?
Macb.
Still it cry'd, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd Sleep; note and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more.
L. Mb.
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 lye 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.
L. Mb.
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. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit. Knocking within.
Macb.
Whence is that knocking!
How is't with me, when every noise appalls me?
-- 26 --
What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas note incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
Re-enter Lady Macbeth.
L. Mb.
My hands are of your colour; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knock.] I hear a knocking
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. [Knock.] Hark! more knocking:
Get on your night-gown, lest note occasion call us,
And shew us to be watchers: Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
Macb.
To know my deed,—'Twere best not know myself.
[Knocking.
Wake, Duncan, with this knocking note: 'Would thou could'st!
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
The same.
Enter a Porter.
Por.
Here's a14Q0504 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
enough about you, here you'll sweat for't. [Knock.]
Knock, knock: Who's there, i'the other devil's name?
'Faith, here'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:
-- 27 --
o, come in, equivocator. [Knock.] Knock, knock,
knock: Who's there? 'Faith, here's an English tailor
come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in,
tailor; 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.
[opens.
Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
Macd.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lye so late?
Por.
'Faith, sir, we were carowsing 'till the second
cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three
things.
Macd.
What three things does drink especially provoke?
Por.
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 note sleep, and, giving him
the lie, leaves him.
Macd.
I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night.
Por.
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 I
made a shift to cast him.
Macd.
Is thy master stirring?—
-- 28 --
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Enter Macbeth.
Len.
Good-morrow, noble sir!
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 service.
[Exit.
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,
Lamentings heard i'the air; strange screams of death;
And prophesying,14Q0505 with accents terrible,
Of dire combustions, note 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, hastily.
Macd.
O horror! horror! horror! Tongue, nor heart,
Cannot conceive, nor name thee!
Macb. Len.
What's the matter?
-- 29 --
Macd.
Confusion now hath made his master-piece!—
Most sacrilegious murther 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 note 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:
[to some Servants, who are entering.
—Murther, 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 this horror!
[Bell rings.
Enter Lady Macbeth.
L. Mb.
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 murther as it fell.—O Banquo, Banquo,
Enter Banquo, and Others.
Our royal master's murther'd!
L. Mb.
Woe, alas!
What, in our house?
Ban.
Too cruel, any where.—
Dear Duff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself note,
-- 30 --
And say, it is not so.
Re-enter Macbeth, and Lenox.14Q0506
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 meer lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain.
Don.
What is amiss?
Macb.
You are, and do not know't:
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopt; the very source of it is stopt.
Macd.
Your royal father's murther'd.
Mal.
O, by whom?
Len.
Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood,
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows; they star'd, and were distracted,
As 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. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murtherers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,
-- 31 --
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?
L. Mb.
Help me hence, ho!
[seeming to faint.
Macd.
Look to the lady.
[gather about her.
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 note 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.—
[L. Macbeth is carry'd out.
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
And question this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence,
Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight
Of treasonous malice.
Macd.
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 Macb. Ban. Macd. Len. &c.
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,
-- 32 --
The nearer bloody.
Mal.
This murtherous shaft that's shot,
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; note
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.
The same. Without the Castle.
Enter Rosse, and an old Man.
o. m.
Three-score and ten14Q0507 I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time, I have seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifl'd former knowings.
Ros.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest note, the heavens, as troubl'd with man's act,
Threaten note his bloody note 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 note it?
o. m.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On tuesday last,
A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawkt at, and kill'd.
Ros.
And Duncan's horses, (a thing most strange, and certain)
Beauteous, and swift, the minions of their race note,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with man. note
o. m.
'Tis said, they eat each other.
Ros.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
-- 33 --
That look't upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:—
Enter Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd.
Why, see you not?
Ros.
Is't known, who did this more than bloody deed?
Macd.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Ros.
Alas the day!
What good could they pretend?
Macd.
They were suborn'd:
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stoln away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Ros.
'Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin note up note
Thine own life's means!—Then 'tis most like,
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macd.
He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone,
To be invested.
Ros.
Where is Duncan's body?
Macd.
Carry'd to Colme-kill;
The sacred store-house of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.
Ros.
Will you to Scone?
Macd.
No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Ros.
Well, I will thither.
Macd.
Well, may you see things well done there;—Adieu!—
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new.
[Exit.
Ros.
Farewel, father.
o. m.
God's benison go with you, sir; note and with those,
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
[Exeunt severally.
-- 34 --
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
