Macd.
Is thy master stirring?
—Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.

Len.
Good morrow, noble Sir. Enter Macbeth.

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've 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, † ^notephysicks pain;
This is the door.

Macd.
I'll make so bold to call, for 'tis my limited service. [Exit Macduff.

Len.
Goes the King hence to-day?

Macb.
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'th' air, strange screams of death,
And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustions, and confus'd events,
New hatch'd to th' woful time:
The obscure bird clamour'd the live-long night.
Some say the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.

Macb.
'Twas a rough night.

Len.
My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it. Enter Macduff.

Macd.
O horror! horror! horror!
Or tongue or heart cannot conceive, nor name thee—

Macb. and Len.
What's the matter?

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'th' building.

Macb.
What is't you say? the life?—

Len.
Mean you his majesty?—

Macd.
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak your selves: awake! awake!— [Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.

Macd.
Ring the alarum-bell—murther! and treason!—
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolme! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death it self—up, up, and see
The great doom's image! Malcolme! Banquo!

As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
To countenance this horror. Ring the bell—

Previous section

Next section