Which thou esteem'ft the ornament of life, I dare do all that may become a man; Lady. What beaft was't then, That made you break this enterprize to me? Did then co-here, and yet you would make both : Macb. If we fhould fail ?- But fkrew your courage to the flicking place, Macb. Bring forth men-children only!. That: That they have don't? Lady. Who dare's receive it other, As we fhall make our griefs and clamour roar, Mach. I'm fettled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: Falfe face must hide what the falfe heart doth know. SCENE, A Hall in Macbeth's Caftle. Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him. BANQUO. WOW goes the night, boy? Hi Fle. The moon is down: I have not heard the clock. Ban. And the goes down at twelve. Fle. I take't, 'tis later, Sir. Ban. Hold, take my fword. There's husbandry in heav'n, Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. A heavy fuimmons lies like lead upon me, Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch. Give me my fword: who's there? Macb. A friend. Ban. What, Sir, not yet at refl? the King's a-bed. He hath to-night been in unufual pleasure, And fent great largefs to your officers; This diamond he greets your wife withal, By the name of most kind Hostess, and shut up Macb. Being unprepar'd, Our Our will became the fervant to defect ; I dreamt last night of the three weïrd fifters: Macb. I think not of them; Yet when we can intreat an hour to ferve, Ban. At your kind leisure. Mach. If you fhall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It fhall make honour for you. Ban. So I lofe none In feeking to augment it, but ftill keep I fhall be counsell'd. Macb. Good repofe the while! Ban. Thanks, Sir; the like to you. [Exeunt Banquo, and Fleance. Macb. Go, bid thy miftress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Is this a dagger which I fee before me, [Exit Servant: The handle tow'rd my hand? come, let me clutch thee, I have thee not, and yet I fee thee ftill. Art thou not, fatal vifion, fenfible Thou marshal'ft me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o'th' other fenfes, Thus to my eyes. Now o'er one half the world The The curtain's fleep? now witchcraft celebrates Whofe howl's his watch) thus with his ftealthy pace, Enter Lady. [Exit. Lady. That, which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold: What hath quench'd them, hath giv'n me fire. Hark! peace! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell-man, Which gives the ftern'ft good-night-he is about it— Do mock their charge with fnores. I've drugg'd their poffets, That death and nature do contend about them, Enter Macbeth. Macb. Who's there? what ho! Lady. Alack! I am afraid, they have awak'd; And 'tis not done; th' attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us-hark!-I laid their daggers ready, He could not mifs 'em.-Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had don't-My husband! Macb. I've done the deed-didst not thou hear a noise? Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? Macb. When? Lady. Lady. Ay. Macb. Hark!-who lies i' the' fecond chamber? Macb. This is a forry fight. Lady. A foolish thought, to fay, [Looks on his hands. a forry fight. Macb. There's one did laugh in's fleep, and one cry'd, Murder! They wak'd each other; and I ftood and heard them; But they did fay their prayers, and address them Again to fleep. Lady. There are two lodg'd together. Macb. One cry'd, God bless us! and Amen, the other; As they had feen me with these hangman's hands. Liftening their fear, I could not fay, Amen, When they did fay, God blefs us. Lady. Confider it not fo deeply. Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen ? I had most need of bleffing, and Amen Stuck in my throat. Lady. Thefe deeds muft not be thought, After thefe ways; fo, it will make us mad. Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder fleep; the innocent fleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd fleeve of care, The death of each day's life, fore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's fecond courfe, Chief nourisher in life's feast. Lady. What do you mean? Macb. Still it ery'd, fleep no more, to all the house; Glamis hath murder'd fleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall fleep no more; Macbeth fhall fleep no more! Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why, worthy Thane, You do unbend your noble ftrength, to think So brain-fickly of things; go, get fome water, And wash this filthy witnefs from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear The fleepy grooms with blood. Macb. |