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Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy

pace, , With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his de

sign Moves like a ghost.- Thou sure and firm set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear The very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he

lives : Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[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.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch. Who's there?

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 officers :
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
In measureless content.

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

. All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters :
To you they have shewed some truth.

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

Ban, At your kindest 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 franchised, and allegiance clear,
I shall be counselled.

Macb. Good repose the while.
Ban. Thanks, sir; the like to you.

[Exit Banquo. 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 oppresséd 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. 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 world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtained sleep; now witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings; and withered murder, Alarimed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Enter LADY Macbeth. Lady M. That which hath made them drunk,

hath made me bold : What hath quenched them, hath given me fire.

Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shrieked; the fatal bellman, 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 have

drugged their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live or die.

Macb. [within.] Who's there? what, ho!

Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awaked, And 't is not done:—the attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss them.-Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done 't.-My husband?

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Scene III.-The same.

Enter a Porter. [Knocking within. Port. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking.) Knock, knock, knock. Who's there, i' the name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty: Come in time; have napkins enough about you; here you 'll sweat for 't. [Knocking.] 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: 0, come in, equivocator. (Knocking.] 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. [Knocking.] Knock, knock: never at quiet ! What are you?—But this place is too cold for hell. I 'll devil-porterit no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon; I pray you, remember the porter.

[Opens the gate.

the

Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second

course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast;"-

Lady M. What do you mean?
Macb. Still it cried, “Sleep no more!" to all

the house : “ Glamis hath murdered sleep; and therefore

Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no

more!" Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why,

worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly 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 lie 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 M.

Infirm of purpose !
Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the

dead Are but as pictures : 't is 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 appals me? 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 incarnardine,
Making the green-one red.

Re-enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady M. 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. (Knocking.] Hark!

more knocking : Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, And shew us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. Macb. To know my deed, 't were best not know myself.

[Knock. Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!

[Exeunt.

Enter MacDUFF and Lenox. Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you

do lie so late ? Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macd. What three things does drink especially provoke?

Port. 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 sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. Macd. I believe drink gave thee the lie last

night. Port. 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 ?Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.

Enter Macbeth. Len. Good-morrow, noble sir. Macb. Good-morrow, both.

Macd. 0, gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear, Would murder as it fell.–0 Banquo! Banquo!

Enter BANQUO. Our royal master 's murdered !

Lady M. Woe, alas ! What, in our house?

Ban. Too cruel, anywhere. Dear Duff, I pr'y thee, contradict thyself, And say,

it is not so.

Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy thane?
Macb.

Not yet.
Macd. He did command me to call timely on

him; I have almost slipped the hour.

Macb. I'll bring you to him.

Macd. I know this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet 't is one.

Macb. The labour we delight in, physics pain. This is the door.

Macd. I'll make so bold to call,
For 't is my limited service. [Exit Macduff.

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, with accents terrible, Of dire combustion, and confused events, New hatched to the woful time. The obscure bird Clamoured the livelong night: some say,

the earth Was feverous, and did shake.

Macb. "T was a rough night.

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

Re-enter Macbeth and LENOX. Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blesséd 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 mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

}

Re-enter Macduff. Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Tongue, nor

heart, Cannot conceive, nor name thee! Macb.

What's the matter? Len. Macd. Confusion now hath made his master

piece!
Most sacrilegious murder 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 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 :-Murder 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 Malcolm and DonalBain. Don. What is amiss!

Macb. You are, and do not know it: The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Is stopped; the very source of it is stopped.

Macd. Your royal father 's murdered.
Mal. 0, by whom?
Len. Those of his chamber, as it seemed, had

done 't:
Their hands and faces were all badged with blood,
So were their daggers, which, unwiped, we found
Upon their pillows: they stared, and were dis-

tracted: 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, amazed, temperate and

furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Outran the pauser reason.--Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
And his gashed stabs looked like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steeped in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breeched with gore: Who could re-

frain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?

Lady M. Help me hence, ho!
Macd. Look to the lady.

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 in an augre-hole,

Enter Lady Macbeth. Lady M. What's the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? speak, speak.

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May rush and seize us? Let 's away; our tears
Are not yet brewed.

Mal. Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.
Ban. Look to the lady :

(Lady Macbeth is carried 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 undivulged pretence I fight
Of treasonous malice.

Macb. And so do I.
AU.

So all.
Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
And meet i' the hall together.
AN. Well contented.

[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Don AlbaIN. 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, The nearer bloody.

Mal. This murderous shaft that's shot Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; 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.

That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?

Old M. "T is unnatural,
Even like the deed that 's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was, by a mousing owl, hawked at and killed.
Rosse. And Duncan's horses (a thing most

strange and certain), Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turned wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind.

Old M. 'Tis said, they eat each other. Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine

eyes, That looked upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:

Enter MACDUFF.
How goes the world, sir, now?

Macd. Why, see you not?
Rosse. Is 't known who did this more than

bloody deed?
Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Rosse. Alas the day! What good could they pretend ?

Macd. They were suborned :
Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons,
Are stolen away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse. 'Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up
Thine own life's means !—Then 't is most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already named ; and gone to Scone To be invested.

Rosse. Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colm-kill;
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.

Rosse. Will you to Scone?
Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Rosse. Well, I will thither.
Macd. Well, may you see things well done

there;--adieu ! -
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

Rosse. Farewell, father.
Old M. God's benison go with you; and with

those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.-Without the Castle.

Enter Rosse and an Old Man. Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember

well : Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore

night Hath trifled former knowings. Rosse.

Ah, good father, Thou see'st, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 't is day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. I: it night's predominance, or the day's shame,

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