Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife. Thou know'st that Banquo and his Fleance live. Lady Macb. But in them nature's copy's not

eterne.

Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund: Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's summons,

The sharp-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal,

There shall be done a deed of dreadful note.
Lady M, What's to be done?

Mcb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,

Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling* night,
Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel, and tear to pieces, that great bond
Which keeps me pale !-Light thickens; and the

crow

Makes wing to the rooky wood;

Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill;
So prithee go with me.
[Exeunt.

SCENE.-A room of State in the Palace.
A Banquet prepared.

Enter MACBETH, Lady MACBETH, ROSSE, LENOX,
Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. You know your own degrees, sit down: at first

And last the hearty welcome.
Lords.

Thanks to your majesty. Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,

And play the humble host.

Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.

Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;

For my heart speaks, they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer, to the door.

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks:

Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i' the midst; Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure The table round.-There's blood upon thy face. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within. Is he despatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Macb. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats. Yet he's good

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Thou art a nonpareil.

Mur. Fleance is 'scaped.

Most royal sir,

Macb. Then comes my fit again; I had else been perfect;

Whole as the marble, founded as the rock:
As broad and general as the casing air:
But now, I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he

bides,

* Seeling means blinding.

With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The least a death to nature.
Macb.
Thanks for that;
There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
Hath nature that in time would venom breed,
No teeth for the present.-Get thee gone;
to-morrow

We'll hear ourselves again.
Lady M.

[Exit Murderer. My royal lord, You do not give the cheer; the feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making, 'Tis given with welcome; To feed, were best at home;

From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony,
Meeting were bare without it.

Macb.
Sweet remembrancer!-
Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Len.

May it please your highness sit? Enter the Ghost of BANQUO and sits in MACBETH'S place.

Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,

Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present:
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Than pity for mischance!
His absence, sir,

Rosse.

Lays blame upon his promise. highness

Please it your

To grace us with your royal company?
Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here is a place reserv'd, sir.
Macb. Where?

Len.

Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? Macb. Which of you have done this? Lords. What, my good lord? Macb. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.

Rosse. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well. Lady M. Sit, worthy friends-my lord is often

thus,

And hath been from his youth: 'pray you keep seat;

The fit is momentary; upon a thought

He will again be well: If much you note him, You shall offend him, and extend his passion;† Feed, and regard him not.-Are you a man? Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.

Lady M.
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear :
This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts
(Impostors to true fear) would well become
A woman's story, at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces?
When all's done,
You look but on a stool.
Macb. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.-.
If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send
Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

Lady M. What! quite unmann'd in folly ?[Ghost disappears,

* Means prolong his sufferings.

Macb. If I stand here, I saw him. Lady M.

Fie, for shame! Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now i' the olden time,

Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murthers have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
That when the brains were out the man would die,
And there an end; but now, they rise again,
With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: This is more strange
Than such a murther is.

Lady M.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.
Macb.

I do forget:-
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health

to all; Then I'll sit down: Give

fill full:

me some wine,

I drink to the general joy of the whole table,
Enter Ghost.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss:
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lords.
Our duties, and the pledge.
Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the
earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!
Lady M.

Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom; 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger, Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword; If trembling I inhibit thee,* protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! [Ghost disappears. Unreal mockery, hence!-Why so;-being gone, I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still. Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

I inhibit thee means I forbid thee.

Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth

The secret'st man of blood.-What is the night? Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person, At our great bidding? Lady M. Did you send to him, sir? Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send : There's not a one of them, but in his house I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow (And betimes I will) unto the weird sisters: More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good, All causes shall give way; am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er: Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd. Lady M. You lack the season of all natures,

sleep.

Macb. Come, we'll to sleep: My strange and self-abuse

Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:-
We are yet but young in deed.

* Owe means here possess.

[Exeunt.

Listen, but speak not to't. App. Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him.

Macb.

[Descends.

That will never be ;
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodements!
good!

Rebellious head, rise never, till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal custom.-Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing: Tell me (if your art
Can tell so much), shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?

All.
Seek to know no more.
Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know:-
Why sinks that caldron ? and what noise is this?
[Hautboys.
1 Witch. Show! 2 Witch. Show! 3 Witch.
Show !

Len. Ay, my good lord.

Fled to England ?

Macb. 'Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,
Unless the deed go with it: From this moment,
The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought
and done:

The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line.
Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are.

SCENE.-England.

[Exeunt.

A Room in the King's Palace.

Enter MALCOLM and MAcduff.

Mal. Let us seek some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty.

Let us rather,

All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart.

order; the last with a glass in his hand; BANQUO following.

Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down!

Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs :-And thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first:
A third is like the former :-Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this?-A fourth-Start,
eyes!

What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom

Another yet?-A seventh ?-I'll see no more:
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many more; and some I see,
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry:
Horrible sight!-Now, I see, 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.-What, is this so?
[Music. The Witches dance and vanish.
Macb. Where are they? Gone?-Let this per-
nicious hour

Stand aye accursed in the calendar!—
Come in, without there!

What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest; you have lov'd him well;

He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something

You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor innocent lamb,
To appease an angry God.

Macd. I am not treacherous.
Mal.

But Macbeth is:
A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
In an imperial charge. But I crave your pardon,
That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell :
Though all things foul would wear the brows of

grace, Yet grace must still look so. Macd. I have lost my hopes. Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts.

Why in that rawness left you wife and child (Those precious motives, those strong knots of

love),

C

Thy title is afeer'd.-Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
And the rich East to boot.

Mal.
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Be not offended.
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
All ready at a point, was setting forth:
Now we'll together: And the chance of goodness,
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you
silent?

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at

once,

'Tis hard to reconcile.-See, who comes here?

Enter RossE.

Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Macd. My ever gentle cousin, welcome hither. Mal. I know him now: Good God, betimes re

move

The means that make us strangers!
Rosse.
Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
Rosse.
Alas, poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where no-
thing.

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs and groans, and shrieks that rend the air,

Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow

seems

A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell

Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's lives

Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying, or ere they sicken.

Macd.

Too nice, and yet too true!

O, relation,

Mal. What's the newest grief?

Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.

I guess at it.

Macd.
Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and
babes

Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry† of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.
Mal.
Merciful heaven!-
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
Macd. My children too?

Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found.

Macd. And I must be from thence! My wife kill'd too?

ones ?

speaker;

Each minute teems a new one.

SCENE.-Dunsinane.

A Room in the Castle.

Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting
Gentlewoman.

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked ?

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth a paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

Enter Lady MACBETH, with a taper. Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.

Doct. How came she by that light?

Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; 'tis her command. Doct. You see her eyes are open. Gent, Ay, but their sense is shut. Doct. What is it she does now? rubs her hands.

Look how she

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One; Two: Why, then 'tis time to do't: Hell is murky!*-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him!

Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean?-No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that you mar all with this starting.

Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

*Means dark.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body. Doct. Well, well, well,

Gent. 'Pray God it be, sir,

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.

Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your night. gown; look not so pale:-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out on's grave, Doct. Even so ?

Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone; To bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady Macbeth. Doct. Will she go now to bed? Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad; Unnatural

deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine than the physician.
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her:-So, good night;
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.
Gent.

Good night, good doctor.
[Exeunt.

SCENE.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all; Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, I cannot taint with fear.