t Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch. Who's there? Macb. A friend. Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's He hath been in unusual pleasure, and By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up" Macb. Being unprepar'd, 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 show'd 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 kind'st leisure. Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent,-when 'tis, It shall make honour for you. So I lose none, Ban. I shall be counsell'd. Macb. 3 Bounty. Good repose, the while. 4 The rooms appropriated to servants. › Conclude. Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you. [Exit BANQUO and FLEANCE. 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. To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses, 7 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 Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horror from the time, 6 Haft, handle. 7 Drops. 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. [Exit. SCENE II. The same. Enter Lady Macbeth. Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire: It was the owl that shriek'd, 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 drugg'd their possets, 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! ready, He could not miss them. My father as he slept, I band? I laid their daggers - Had he not resembled had done't. - My hus Enter MACBETH. Macb. I have done the deed: Didst thou not hear a noise? Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets Macb. This is a sorry sight. Donalbain. [Looking on 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 Again to sleep. Lady M. 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, 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 no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep; 8 Sleave is unwrought silk. 8 The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house: Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor You do unbend your noble strength, to think 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, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt. Mach. [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 9, Making the green one red. To incarnardine is to stain of a flesh colour. |