Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;

-Great Glamis! worthy

Cawdor!

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters;-To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent
flower,

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Mach. We will speak further.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.

Only look up clear;

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The same. Before the Castle. Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants. Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses.

Ban.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, buttress,
Nor coigne of vantage, but this bird hath made
His pendent bed, and procreant cradle: Where
they

Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, the air
Is delicate.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Dun. See, see our honour'd hostess ! The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. Lady M. All our service In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business, to contend Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith Your majesty loads our house: For those of old, And the late dignities heap'd up to them, We rest your hermits. Dun.

Where's the thane of Cawdor? We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp

him

stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service. Then enter Macbeth.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly: If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come.-But in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other.-How now, what news?
Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady M. He has almost supp'd; Why have you
left the chamber?
Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?
Lady M.
Know you not, he has?
Macb. We will proceed no further in this busi-

ness:

He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

Lady M.
Was the hope drunk,
Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem;
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' the adage ?
Macb.

Pr'ythee, peace:

I dare do all that may become a man ;
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady M.
What beast was it then,
That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man ;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place,
Did then adhere, and yet would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness

now

Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:

I had most need of blessing, and amen Stuck in my throat.

Lady M.

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 does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave 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.
Lady M.
What do you mean?
Mach. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the
house :

Glamis hath murder'd 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: '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. Mach. 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

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 Jenough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, 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-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon; I pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate.

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 awak'd him; here he comes.
Enter Macbeth.

Len. Good-morrow, noble sir!
Mach.

Good-morrow, both!
Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy Thane?
Mach.
Not yet.
Macd. He did command me to call timely on him;
I have almost slipp'd the hour.

Much. I'll bring you to him. Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet, 'tis one.

Mach. The labour we delight in, physicks pain. This is the door.

From 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 confus'd events,
New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird
Clamour'd the livelong 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.

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.

Re-enter Macbeth and Lenox.

Mach. Had I but died 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 mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.

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 stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. Macd. Your royal father's murder'd. Mal.

O, by whom? Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had

done'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; 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.

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 mur-
derers,

Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,

That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?
Lady M.

Macd. Look to the lady.
Mal.

Help me hence, ho!

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 augre-hole,

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

Well contented. [Exeunt all but Mal. and Don.

Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i'the hall together.

All.

Mal. What will you do? Let's not consort with them : To show 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. 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.

Mal.

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, '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 it?
'Tis unnatural,
Old M.
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd.

Rosse. And Duncan's horses, (a thing most

strange and certain,)

Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd 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

those

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Fores.

A Room in the Palace.
Enter Banquo.

Ban. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,

As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said,
It should not stand in thy posterity;

But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them,
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,

And set me up in hope? But, hush; no more.
Senet sounded. Enter Macbeth, as King: Lady
Macbeth, as Queen; Lenox, Rosse, Lords, Ladies,
and Attendants.

Macb. Here's our chief guest.
Lady M.

If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all things unbecoming.

Macb. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir, And I'll request your presence.

Ban.

Let your highness Command upon me; to the which, my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie

Macb. Bring them before us.-[Exit Atten.] To
be thus, is nothing;

But to be safely thus:-Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that, which would be fear'd: 'Tis much he
dares;

| And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none, but he
Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is said,
Mark Antony's was by Cæsar. He chid the
sisters,

When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If it be so,
For Banquo's issue have I fill'd my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,

To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance !- -Who's
there ?-

Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers. Now to the door, and stay there till we call. [Exit Attendant. Was it not yesterday we spoke together? 1 Mur. It was, so please your highness. Macb. Well then, now Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know, That it was he, in the times past, which held you So under fortune; which, you thought, had been Our innocent self: this I made good to you

In our last conference; pass'd in probation with

you,

How you were borne in hand; how cross'd; the instruments;

Who wrought with them; and all things else, that might, To half a soul, and to a notion craz'd, Say, Thus did Banquo. i Mur.

You made it known to us. Mach. I did so; and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature, That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd, To pray for this good man, and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave, And beggar'd yours for ever?

1 Mur.

We are men, my liege.
Macb. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men ;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels,
curs,

Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are cleped
All by the name of dogs: the valued file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.
2 Mur.
I am one, my liege
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world

Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what
I do, to spite the world.

1 Mur.

And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,