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Who's howl'd his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. [Exit.
Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:
What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:-
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Macb. [Within] Who's there?-what, ho!
Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, And 'tis 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! Enter MACBETH.
Macb. I have done the deed:-Didst thou not hear a noise?
Lady M. I heard the owls scream, and the crickets
Who lies i' the second chamber?
Mach. This is a sorry sight.
[Looking at his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried, murder!
That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them;
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
There are two lodg'd together. Macb. One cried, God bless us! and, Amen, the other;
As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands,
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.
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no
Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
What do you mean? Macb. 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, wor→ thy Thane,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: Go, carry them; and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.
I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done:
Look on't again, I dare not.
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. 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
Hath left you unattended.-[Knocking.] Hark! more knocking:
Get on your night-gown, lest occasion call us,
So poorly in your thoughts.
Macb. To know my deed,-'twere best not know myself.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Ay, 'would thou
To incarnardine is to stain of a flesh colour.
MACBETH'S GUILTY CONSCIENCE AND FEARs of
Lady M. How now, my lord; why do you keep
Of sorriest* fancies your companions making?
Macb. We have scotch'd the snake, not killed it;
The frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,
In the affliction of these terrible dreams,
That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead,
In restless ecstasy.† Duncan is in his grave;
Can touch him further.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
* Most melancholy.
What's to be done?
ti. e. The copy, the lease, by which they hold their lives from nature, has its time of termination.
§ The beetle borne in the air by its shards or scaly wings,
Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,*
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seelingt night,
And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Makes wing to the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
THE BANQUET SCENE.
My royal lord, You do not give the cheer; the feast is sold, That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making, 'Tis given with welcome: To feed, were best at home
From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
May it please your highness sit? [The Ghost of BANQUO rises, and sits in MACBETH's place.
had we now our country's honour
Were the grac❜d person of our Banquo present;
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your high
To grace us with your royal company?
Macb. The table's full.
Here's a place reserv'd, sir.
Len. Here, my lord. What is't that moves your
Mach. Which of you have done this?