The Tragedy of Macbeth
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William Shakespeare

The Tragedy of Macbeth




Dramatis Personae

DUNCAN, King of Scotland

MACBETH, Thane of Glamis and Cawdor, a general in the King's army

LADY MACBETH, his wife

MACDUFF, Thane of Fife, a nobleman of Scotland

LADY MACDUFF, his wife

MALCOLM, elder son of Duncan

DONALBAIN, younger son of Duncan

BANQUO, Thane of Lochaber, a general in the King's army

FLEANCE, his son

LENNOX, nobleman of Scotland

ROSS, nobleman of Scotland

MENTEITH nobleman of Scotland

ANGUS, nobleman of Scotland

CAITHNESS, nobleman of Scotland

SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces

YOUNG SIWARD, his son

SEYTON, attendant to Macbeth

HECATE, Queen of the Witches

The Three Witches

Boy, Son of Macduff

Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth

An English Doctor

A Scottish Doctor

A Sergeant

A Porter

An Old Man

The Ghost of Banquo and other Apparitions

Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murtherers, Attendants, and Messengers




SCENE: Scotland and England





ACT I. SCENE I. A desert place. Thunder and lightning



Enter three Witches.

		FIRST WITCH. When shall we three meet again?
		In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
		SECOND 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?
		SECOND WITCH. Upon the heath.
		THIRD WITCH. There to meet with Macbeth.
		FIRST WITCH. I come, Graymalkin.
		ALL. Paddock calls. Anon!
		Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
		Hover through the fog and filthy air. Exeunt.




SCENE II. A camp near Forres. Alarum within


Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant.

		DUNCAN. What bloody man is that? He can report,
		As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
		The newest state.
		MALCOLM. This is the sergeant
		Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
		'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
		Say to the King the knowledge of the broil
		As thou didst leave it.
		SERGEANT. Doubtful it stood,
		As two spent swimmers that do cling together
		And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-
		Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
		The multiplying villainies of nature
		Do swarm upon him – from the Western Isles
		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-
		Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
		Which smoked with bloody execution,
		Like Valor's minion carved out his passage
		Till he faced the slave,
		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.
		DUNCAN. O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman!
		SERGEANT. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
		Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
		So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
		Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark.
		No sooner justice had, with valor 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,
		Began a fresh assault.
		DUNCAN. Dismay'd not this
		Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo.?
		SERGEANT. Yes,
		As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
		If I say sooth, I must report they were
		As cannons overcharged with double cracks,
		So they
		Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe.
		Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
		Or memorize another Golgotha,
		I cannot tell-
		But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.
		DUNCAN. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
		They smack of honor both. Go get him surgeons.
		Exit Sergeant, attended.
		Who comes here?

Enter Ross.

		MALCOLM The worthy Thane of Ross.
		LENNOX. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
		That seems to speak things strange.
		ROSS. God save the King!
		DUNCAN. Whence camest thou, worthy Thane?
		ROSS. From Fife, great King,
		Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
		And fan our people cold.
		Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
		Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
		The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict,
		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,
		The victory fell on us.
		DUNCAN. Great happiness!
		ROSS. That now
		Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
		Nor would we deign him burial of his men
		Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme's Inch,
		Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
		DUNCAN. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
		Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,
		And with his former title greet Macbeth.
		ROSS. I'll see it done.
		DUNCAN. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.


Exeunt




SCENE III. A heath. Thunder


Enter the three Witches.

		FIRST WITCH. Where hast thou been, sister?
		SECOND WITCH. Killing swine.
		THIRD WITCH. Sister, where thou?
		FIRST WITCH. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
		And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd. "Give me," quoth I.
		"Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries.
		Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master 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.
		SECOND 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,
		And the very ports they blow,
		All the quarters that they know
		I' the shipman's card.
		I will drain him dry as hay:
		Sleep shall neither night nor day
		Hang upon his penthouse lid;
		He shall live a man forbid.
		Weary se'nnights nine times nine
		Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine;
		Though his bark cannot be lost,
		Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
		Look what I have.
		SECOND WITCH. Show me, show me.
		FIRST WITCH. Here I have a pilot's thumb,
		Wreck'd as homeward he did come. Drum within.
		THIRD WITCH. A drum, a drum!
		Macbeth doth come.
		ALL. The weird sisters, hand in hand,
		Posters of the sea and land,
		Thus do go about, about,
		Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
		And thrice again, to make up nine.
		Peace! The charm's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

		MACBETH. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
		BANQUO. How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
		So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
		That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
		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,
		And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
		That you are so.
		MACBETH. Speak, if you can. What are you?
		FIRST WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
		SECOND WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
		THIRD WITCH. All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter!
		BANQUO. Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear
		Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,
		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,
		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
		Your favors nor your hate.
		FIRST WITCH. Hail!
		SECOND WITCH. Hail!
		THIRD WITCH. Hail!
		FIRST WITCH. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
		SECOND WITCH. Not so happy, yet much happier.
		THIRD WITCH. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.
		So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
		FIRST WITCH. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
		MACBETH. 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,
		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
		Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
		With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
		Witches vanish.
		BANQUO. The earth hath bubbles as the water has,
		And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?
		MACBETH. Into the air, and what seem'd corporal melted
		As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!
		BANQUO. Were such things here as we do speak about?
		Or have we eaten on the insane root
		That takes the reason prisoner?
		MACBETH. Your children shall be kings.
		BANQUO. You shall be King.
		MACBETH. And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so?
		BANQUO. To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

Enter Ross and Angus.

		ROSS. The King hath happily received, Macbeth,
		The news of thy success; and when he reads
		Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
		His wonders and his praises do contend
		Which should be thine or his. Silenced with that,
		In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
		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
		Thy praises in his kingdom's great defense,
		And pour'd them down before him.
		ANGUS. We are sent
		To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
		Only to herald thee into his sight,
		Not pay thee.
		ROSS. And for an earnest of a greater honor,
		He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor.
		In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane,
		For it is thine.
		BANQUO. What, can the devil speak true?
		MACBETH. The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me
		In borrow'd robes?
		ANGUS. Who was the Thane lives yet,
		But under heavy judgement bears that life
		Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
		With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
		With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
		He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
		But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
		Have overthrown him.
		MACBETH. [Aside.] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!
		The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus] Thanks for your
		pains.
		[Aside to Banquo] Do you not hope your children shall be
		kings,
		When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me
		Promised no less to them?
		BANQUO. [Aside to Macbeth.] That, trusted home,
		Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
		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
		In deepest consequence-
		Cousins, a word, I pray you.
		MACBETH. [Aside.] Two truths are told,
		As happy prologues to the swelling act
		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,
		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,
		Against the use of nature? Present fears
		Are less than horrible imaginings:
		My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,
		Shakes so my single state of man that function
		Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
		But what is not.
		BANQUO. Look, how our partner's rapt.
		MACBETH. [Aside.] If chance will have me King, why, chance may
		crown me
		Without my stir.
		BANQUO. New honors come upon him,
		Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
		But with the aid of use.
		MACBETH. [Aside.] Come what come may,
		Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
		BANQUO. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
		MACBETH. Give me your favor; my dull brain was wrought
		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 chanced, and at more time,
		The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
		Our free hearts each to other.
		BANQUO. Very gladly.
		MACBETH. Till then, enough. Come, friends. Exeunt.




SCENE IV. Forres. The palace


Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, and Attendants.

		DUNCAN. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
		Those in commission yet return'd?
		MALCOLM. 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,
		Implored 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,
		To throw away the dearest thing he owed
		As 'twere a careless trifle.
		DUNCAN. There's no art
		To find the mind's construction in the face:
		He was a gentleman on whom I built
		An absolute trust.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus.

		O worthiest cousin!
		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 deserved,
		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.
		MACBETH. The service and the loyalty lowe,
		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
		Safe toward your love and honor.
		DUNCAN. Welcome hither.
		I have begun to plant thee, and will labor
		To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
		That hast no less deserved, nor must be known
		No less to have done so; let me infold thee
		And hold thee to my heart.
		BANQUO. There if I grow,
		The harvest is your own.
		DUNCAN. My plenteous joys,
		Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves
		In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
		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 honor must
		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.
		MACBETH. The rest is labor, which is not used for you.
		I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
		The hearing of my wife with your approach;
		So humbly take my leave.
		DUNCAN. My worthy Cawdor!
		MACBETH. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step
		On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
		For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
		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.
		DUNCAN. True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant,
		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.




SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle


Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.

		LADY MACBETH. "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 mightst 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
		What thou art promised. 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
		The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
		That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
		And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'ldst have, great Glamis,
		That which cries, "Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
		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 valor of my tongue
		All that impedes thee from the golden round,
		Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
		To have thee crown'd withal.

Enter a Messenger.

		What is your tidings?
		MESSENGER. The King comes here tonight.
		LADY MACBETH. Thou'rt mad to say it!
		Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
		Would have inform'd for preparation.
		MESSENGER. 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
		Than would make up his message.
		LADY MACBETH. Give him tending;
		He brings great news. Exit Messenger.
		The raven himself is hoarse
		That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
		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,
		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,
		And take my milk for gall, your murthering ministers,
		Wherever in your sightless substances
		You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
		And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell
		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.

		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
		The future in the instant.
		MACBETH. My dearest love,
		Duncan comes here tonight.
		LADY MACBETH. And when goes hence?
		MACBETH. Tomorrow, as he purposes.
		LADY MACBETH. O, never
		Shall sun that morrow see!
		Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men
		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 it. He that's coming
		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.
		MACBETH. We will speak further.
		LADY MACBETH. Only look up clear;
		To alter favor ever is to fear.
		Leave all the rest to me. Exeunt.




SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches


Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and Attendants.

		DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
		Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
		Unto our gentle senses.
		BANQUO. This guest of summer,
		The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
		By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath
		Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
		Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
		Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle;
		Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed
		The air is delicate.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

		DUNCAN. See, see, our honor'd hostess!
		The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
		Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
		How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains,
		And thank us for your trouble.
		LADY MACBETH. All our service
		In every point twice done, and then done double,
		Were poor and single business to contend
		Against those honors deep and broad wherewith
		Your Majesty loads our house. For those of old,
		And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
		We rest your hermits.
		DUNCAN. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
		We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose
		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 tonight.
		LADY MACBETH. 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.
		DUNCAN. 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.




SCENE VII Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches


Enter a Sewer and divers Servants with dishes and service, who pass over the stage. Then enter Macbeth.

		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 murtherer 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 cherubin 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.

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?
		MACBETH. We will proceed no further in this business:
		He hath honor'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
		At what it did so freely? From this time
		Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
		To be the same in thine own act and valor
		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 wast 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.
		MACBETH. If we should fail?
		LADY MACBETH. 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
		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 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
		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 clamor 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.


Exeunt




ACT II. SCENE I. Inverness. 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.
		BANQUO. And she goes down at twelve.
		FLEANCE. I take't 'tis later, sir.
		BANQUO. 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?
		MACBETH. A friend.
		BANQUO. What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's abed.
		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.
		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.
		BANQUO. At your kind'st leisure.
		MACBETH. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
		It shall make honor for you.
		BANQUO. So I lose none
		In seeking to augment it, but still keep
		My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
		I shall be counsel'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 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:




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