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ACT II.

SCENE I.-The same. Court within the Castle.

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a 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, 't is later, sir.

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Macb.

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

[Exit BANQUO. Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,

Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's hus- She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
bandry in heaven,

Their candles are all out.. -Take thee that 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 a Servant with a torch.
Who's there?

Macb. A friend.

[Exit Servant.

Come, let me

Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand?

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

Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's As this which now I draw.

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

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy

pace,

Would spend it in some words upon that business, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his deIf you would grant the time.

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Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:

Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried "Murder!"

Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. That they did wake each other. I stood and

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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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Enter MACBETH.

Macb. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?

heard them:

But they did say their prayers, and addressed them Again to sleep.

Lady M.

There are two lodged together. Macb. One cried "God bless us!" and "Amen," the other;

As they had seen me with these hangman's hands, Listening their fear. I could not say, "Amen," When they did say, "God bless us."

Lady M. 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 M. These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep

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Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the You do unbend your noble strength, to think

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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,

Lady M. My hands are of your color; but I That you do lie so late!

shame

Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the

To wear a heart so white. [Knock.] I hear a second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker

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[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 Beelzebub? 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,

:

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. 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 labor 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
Clamored 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 MACduff.

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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.

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

Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Tongue, nor Is left this vault to brag of.

heart,

Cannot conceive, nor name thee!

What's the matter?

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Macd. Confusion now hath made his master- The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood

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Len. Mean you his majesty?

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Their hands and faces were all badged with blood,

Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy So were their daggers, which, unwiped, we found

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That most may claim this argument for ours?

Don. What should be spoken here,

Where our fate, hid in an augre-hole,

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Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 't is day,
And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp.

May rush and seize us? Let's away; our tears Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame,

Are not yet brewed.

Mal.

Upon the foot of motion.

Ban.

Nor our strong sorrow

Look to the lady:

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Even like the deed that 's done. On Tuesday last,

[LADY MACBETH is carried out. A falcon, towering in her pride of place,

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 pretense I fight
Of treasonous malice.

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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.

'T is 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

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