SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. enter MACBETH.

Then

Macbeth. 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'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgement 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, horsed
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'erleaps itself

And falls on the other.

20

Enter LADY MACBETH.

How now! what news?

Lady Macbeth. He has almost supp'd: why have you left

the chamber?

Macbeth. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady Macbeth.

Know you not he has? 30

Macbeth. We will proceed no further in this business:

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 Macbeth.

Was the hope drunk

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since ?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

From this time
Art thou afeard

own act and valour

At what it did so freely?
Such I account thy love.
To be the same in thine
As thou art in desire? Wouldst 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?

Macbeth.

Prithee, peace:

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

Lady Macbeth.

What beast was't then

That made you break this enterprise 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 you 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 would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you
Have done to this.

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50

We fail!

бо

Lady Macbeth.
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-
Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him-his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassail so convince
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbec only: when in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?

Macbeth.

Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose

Nothing but males. Will it not be received,

When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber and used their very daggers,
That they have done't?

Lady Macbeth.

Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?

Macbeth.

I am settled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

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[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle.

Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him.

Banquo. How goes the night, boy?

Fleance. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

C

Banquo. And she goes down at twelve.

Fleance.

I take 't, 'tis later, sir.

Banq. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry 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!

Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch.

Who's there?

Macbeth. A friend.

Give me my sword.

10

Banquo. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: He hath been in unusual pleasure, and

Sent forth great largess to your offices.

This diamond he greets your wife withal,

By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
In measureless content.

Macbeth.

Being unprepared,

Our will became the servant to defect;

Which else should free have wrought.

Banquo.

All's well.

20

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.

Macbeth.

I think not of them:

Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.

At your kind'st leisure.

Banquo. Macbeth. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It shall make honour for you.

Banquo.

So I lose none

In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, 1 shall be counsell'd.

Macbeth.

Good repose the while! Banquo. Thanks, sir: the like to you!

[Exeunt Banquo and Fleance. Macbeth. 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-oppressed 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 curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy 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 cool breath gives.

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.

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60

[A bell rings.

[Exit.