Macbeth/麦克白剧本

Act I. Scene I.

A desert Heath.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches.   
    First Witch.  When shall we three meet again 
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?    4
    Sec. Witch.  When the hurlyburly’s done, 
When the battle’s lost and won.
    Third Witch.  That will be ere the set of sun. 
    First Witch.  Where the place?    8
    Sec. Witch.        Upon the heath.  
    Third Witch.  There to meet with Macbeth.
    First Witch.  I come, Graymalkin!  
    Sec. Witch.  Paddock calls.   12
    Third Witch.  Anon.  
    All.  Fair is foul, and foul is fair:  
Hover through the fog and filthy air.  [Exeunt.

 

Act I. Scene II.

A Camp near Forres.

Alarum within. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant.  
    Dun.  What bloody man is that? He can report,  
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt    4 
The newest state.   
    Mal.        This is the sergeant
Who, like a good and hardy soldier fought 
’Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!    8
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil  
As thou didst leave it.  
    Serg.        Doubtful it stood;  
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together   12
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald—
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that  
The multiplying villanies of nature 
Do swarm upon him—from the western isles   16
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;  
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show’d like a rebel’s whore: but all’s too weak;
For brave Macbeth,—well he deserves that name,—   20
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel, 
Which smok’d with bloody execution,  
Like valour’s minion carv’d out his passage  
Till he fac’d the slave;   24
Which ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,  
Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.  
    Dun.  O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!   28
    Serg.  As whence the sun ’gins his reflection
Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring whence comfort seem’d to come
Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark:   32
No sooner justice had with valour arm’d
Compell’d these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, 
With furbish’d arms and new supplies of men   36

<!--pagebreak-->Began a fresh assault.
Dun. Dismay’d not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Serg. Yes; 40
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg’d with double cracks;
So they 44
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,
I cannot tell— 48
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
They smack of honour both. Go, get him surgeons. [Exit. Sergeant, attended.

Enter ROSS. 52
Who comes here?
Mal. The worthy Thane of Ross.
Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
That seems to speak things strange. 56
Ross. God save the king!
Dun. Whence cam’st thou, worthy thane?
Ross. From Fife, great king;
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky 60
And fan our people cold. Norway himself,
With terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor,
The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; 64
Till that Bellona’s bridegroom, lapp’d in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point, rebellious arm ’gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, 68
The victory fell on us.—
Dun. Great happiness!
Ross. That now
Sweno, the Norways’ king, craves composition; 72
Nor would we deign him burial of his men
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme’s Inch,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
Dun. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive 76
Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
Ross. I’ll see it done.
Dun. What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. [Exeunt. <!--pagebreak-->

Act I. Scene III.

A Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
First Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?
Sec. Witch. Killing swine. 4
Third Witch. Sister, where thou?
First Witch. A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her lap,
And munch’d, and munch’d, and munch’d: ‘Give me,’ quoth I:
‘Aroint thee, witch!’ the rump-fed ronyon cries. 8
Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ the Tiger:
But in a sieve I’ll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do. 12
Sec. Witch. I’ll give thee a wind.
First Witch. Thou’rt kind.
Third Witch. And I another.
First Witch. I myself have all the other; 16
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I’ the shipman’s card.
I’ll drain him dry as hay: 20
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid.
Weary se’nnights nine times nine 24
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have. 28
Sec. Witch. Show me, show me.
First Witch. Here I have a pilot’s thumb,
Wrack’d as homeward he did come. [Drum within.
Third Witch. A drum! a drum! 32
Macbeth doth come.
All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about: 36
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine.
Peace! the charm’s wound up.

Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. 40
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is ’t call’d to Forres? What are these,
So wither’d and so wild in their attire,
That look not like th’ inhabitants o’ the earth, 44
And yet are on’t? Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, 48
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
Macb. Speak, if you can: what are you?
First Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! 52
Sec. Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
Third Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.
Ban. Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair? I’ the name of truth, 56
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace and great prediction
Of noble having and of royal hope, 60
That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 64
Your favours nor your hate.
First Witch. Hail!
Sec. Witch. Hail!
Third Witch. Hail! 68
First Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
Sec. Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.
Third Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 72
First Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives, 76
A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief
No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why 80
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. [Witches vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish’d? 84
Macb. Into the air, and what seem’d corporal melted
As breath into the wind. Would they had stay’d!
Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root 88
That takes the reason prisoner?
Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban. You shall be king.
Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? 92
Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who’s here?

Enter ROSS and ANGUS.
Ross. The king hath happily receiv’d, Macbeth,
The news of thy success; and when he reads 96
Thy personal venture in the rebels’ fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend
Which should be thine or his. Silenc’d with that,
In viewing o’er the rest o’ the self-same day, 100
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
Came post with post, and every one did bear 104
Thy praises in his kingdom’s great defence,
And pour’d them down before him.
Ang. We are sent
To give thee from our royal master thanks; 108
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
Ross. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor: 112
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
Ban. What! can the devil speak true?
Macb. The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me 116
In borrow’d robes?
Ang. Who was the thane lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin’d 120
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help or vantage, or that with both
He labour’d in his country’s wrack, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess’d and prov’d, 124
Have overthrown him.
Macb. [Aside.] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind. [To ROSS and ANGUS.] Thanks for your pains.
[To BANQUO.] Do you not hope your children shall be kings, 128
When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me
Promis’d no less to them?
Ban. That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, 132
Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But ’tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray’s 136
In deepest consequence.
Cousins, a word, I pray you.
Macb. [Aside.] Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act 140
Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.
[Aside.] This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill, cannot be good; if ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success, 144
Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, 148
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings;
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man that function 152
Is smother’d in surmise, and nothing is
But what is not.
Ban. Look, how our partner’s rapt.
Macb. [Aside.] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, 156
Without my stir.
Ban. New honours come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
But with the aid of use. 160
Macb. [Aside.] Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Macb. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought 164
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register’d where every day I turn
The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.
Think upon what hath chanc’d; and, at more time, 168
The interim having weigh’d it, let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.
Ban. Very gladly.
Macb. Till then, enough. Come, friends. [Exeunt.

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Act I. Scene IV.

Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return’d? 4
Mal. My liege,
They are not yet come back; but I have spoke
With one that saw him die; who did report
That very frankly he confess’d his treasons, 8
Implor’d your highness’ pardon and set forth
A deep repentance. Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death 12
To throw away the dearest thing he ow’d,
As ’twere a careless trifle.
Dun. There’s no art
To find the mind’s construction in the face: 16
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS and ANGUS.
O worthiest cousin! 20
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee; would thou hadst less deserv’d, 24
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macb. The service and the loyalty I owe, 28
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness’ part
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne and state, children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing everything 32
Safe toward your love and honour.
Dun. Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, 36
That hast no less deserv’d, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban. There if I grow, 40
The harvest is your own.
Dun. My plenteous joys
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, 44
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must 48
Not unaccompanied invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you. 52
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us’d for you:
I’ll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave. 56
So, humbly take my leave. 56
Macb. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step
On which I must fall down, or else o’er-leap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! 60
Let not light see my black and deep desires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, 64
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let’s after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt.

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Act I. Scene V.

Inverness. MACBETH’S Castle.

Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter.
They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me, ‘Thane of Cawdor;’ by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, ‘Hail, king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be 4
What thou art promis’d. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way; thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition, but without 8
The illness should attend it; what thou wouldst highly,
That thou wouldst holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou ’dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, ‘Thus thou must do, if thou have it;’ 12
And that which rather thou dost fear to do
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valour of my tongue 16
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown’d withal.

Enter a Messenger. 20
What is your tidings?
Mess. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M. Thou’rt mad to say it.
Is not thy master with him? who, were’t so, 24
Would have inform’d for preparation.
Mess. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming;
One of my fellows had the speed of him,
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more 28
Than would make up his message.
Lady M. Give him tending;
He brings great news.—[Exit Messenger.] The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 32
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts! unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top full
Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood, 36
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, 40
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, 44
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, ‘Hold, hold!’

Enter MACBETH. 48
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now 52
The future in the instant.
Macb. My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
Lady M. And when goes hence? 56
Macb. To-morrow, as he purposes.
Lady M. O! never
Shall sun that morrow see.
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men 60
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 ’t. He that’s coming 64
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night’s great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. 68
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M. Only look up clear;
To alter favour ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me. [Exeunt.

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Act I. Scene VI.

The Same. Before the Castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants.
Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself 4
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 8
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ’d 12
The air is delicate.

Enter LADY MACBETH.
Dun. See, see, our honour’d hostess!
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, 16
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God ’eyld us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.
Lady M. All our service, 20
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, 24
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 28
To be his purveyor; but he rides well,
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night. 32
Lady M. Your servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness’ pleasure,
Still to return your own. 36
Dun. Give me your hand;
Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess. [Exeunt.

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Act I. Scene VII.

The Same. A Room in the Castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the 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 4
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, 8
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 12
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, 16
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 20
Will plead like angels trumpet-tongu’d against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, hors’d 24
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 28
Vaulting ambition, which o’er-leaps itself
And falls on the other.—

Enter LADY MACBETH.
How now! what news? 32
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 business: 36
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. 40
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 44
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, 48
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting ‘I dare not’ wait upon ‘I would,’
Like the poor cat i’ the adage?
Macb. Prithee, peace. 52
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
Lady M. What beast was’t, then,
That made you break this enterprise to me? 56
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: 60
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, 64
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.
Macb. If we should fail,— 68
Lady M. We fail!
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 72
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 76
A limbeck 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 80
His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?
Macb. Bring forth men-children only;
For thy undaunted mettle should compose 84
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv’d,
When we have mark’d with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber and us’d their very daggers,
That they have done’t? 88
Lady M. Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?
Macb. I am settled, and bend up 92
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. [Exeunt.

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Act II. Scene I.

Inverness. Court within the Castle.

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, with a Servant bearing a torch before him
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, ’tis later, sir.
Ban. 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.
Give me my sword.—
Who’s there?
Macb. A friend.
Ban. 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.
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,
We 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.
Ban. So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchis’d and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsell’d.
Macb. Good repose the while!
Ban. Thanks, sir: the like to you. [Exeunt 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.
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, toward 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 cold breath gives. [A bell rings.
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. [Exit.

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Act II. Scene II.

The Same.

Enter LADY MACBETH.
Lady M. That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold,
What hath quench’d them hath given me fire. Hark!
Peace!
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,
Whether they live or die.
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 owl scream and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macb. When?
Lady M. Now.
Macb. As I descended?
Lady M. Ay.
Macb. Hark!
Who lies i’ the second chamber?
Lady M. Donalbain.
Macb. [Looking on his hands.] This is a sorry sight.
Lady M. A foolish thought to say a sorry sight.
Macb. There’s one did laugh in ’s 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,
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?
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, 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.
Macb. 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 incarnadine,
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.—[Knocking within.] I hear a knocking
At the south entry; retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed;
How easy is it, then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended. [Knocking within.] Hark! more knocking.
Get on your night-gown, lest occasion call us,
And show us to be watchers. Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
Macb. To know my deed ’twere best not know myself. [Knocking within.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! [Exeunt.