Lady.
That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:
What hath quencht them, hath giv'n 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've drugg'd their possets,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die. Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
Who's there? what ho?—

Lady.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done; th' attempt, and not the deed
Confounds us—hark!—I laid their daggers ready,
He could not miss 'em.—Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I'had don't—My husband!

Macb.
I've done the deed—didst not thou 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 lyes i'th' second chamber?

Lady.
Donalbaine.

Macb.
This is a sorry sight. [Looks on his hands.

Lady.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

Macb.
There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cry'd murther,
They wak'd each other; and I stood and heard them;
But they did say their prayers, and addrest 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.
Listning their fear, I could not say Amen,
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 doth murther sleep. The innocent Sleep,* ^note



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.

Lady.
What do you mean?

Macb.
Still it cry'd, Sleep no more, to all the house;
Glamis hath murther'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 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,

Lady.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers; the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of child-hood,
That fears a painted devil. If he bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt. [Exit. Knocks within.

Macb.
Whence is that knocking? [Starting.

How is't with me, when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? no, this my hand will rather* ^note



Make the green ocean red— Enter Lady.

Lady.
My hands are of your colour; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. I hear a knocking [Knock.
At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed.
How easie is it then? your constancy
Hath left you unattended—hark, more knocking! [Knock.
Get on your night-gown, lest 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 my self.
Wake Duncan with this knocking: would thou couldst! [Exe.* ^note

Previous section

Next section