Page images
PDF
EPUB

What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wath this blood
Clean from my hand ? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous feas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.

Re-enter Lady MACBETH.
L. M'. My hands are of your colour; but I Mame
To wear a heart fo white. (Knock.] 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

[ing: Hath left you unattended. [Knock.] Hark! more knockGet on your night-gown, left occasion call us, And thew us to be watchers : Be not loft So poorly in your thoughts.

[myfelf. Maco. To know my deed, -"Twere beft not know

[Knocking: Wake,Duncan, with this knocking:'Would thou couldå!

Exeunt. SCENE II. The same.

Enter a Porter. Por. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knock.) Knock, knock, knock : Who's there, i'the name of Belzebub ? Here's a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of plenty : come in time; have napkins enough about you, here you'll sweat for't. [Knock.] Knock, knock : Who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales againit either scale ; who committed treason enough for God's fake, yet could not equivocate to hea

18 with thy knocking

ven: o, come in, equivocator. (Knock.] Knock, knock, knock : Who's there? 'Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose : come in, tailor ; here you may roaft your goofe. [Knock.) Knock, knock: Never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell; I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all profeffions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. (Knock.] Anon, anon ; I pray you, remember the porter. [opens.

Enter MACDUFF, and Lenox. MAC4. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you

do lve so late? Por. ?Faith, sir, we were carowsing 'till the second cock : and drink, fir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macd. What three things does drink especially provoke?

Por. Marry, fir, nose-painting, fleep, and urine. Lechery, fir, it provokes, and unprovokes ; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore, much drink

may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him ; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to:in conclusion, equivocates him in a fleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

Mace. I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night.

Por. That it did, fir, i'the very throat o'me : But I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him.

MAcd. Is thy master stirring ?

And say, it is not so.

Re-enter MACBETH, and Lenox. MAC". Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this inftant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the meer lees Is left this vault to brag of.

Enter MALCOLM, and DONALBAIN. Don. What is amiss ?

Macb. You are, and do not know't: The spring, the head, the fountain of

your

blood Is stopt; the very source of it is stopt.

MAC". Your royal father's murther'd.
MAL. O, by whom?

LEN. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
Their hands and faces were all badg’d with blood,
So were their daggers, which, unwip’d, we found
Upon their pillows; they star'd, and were distracted,
as no man's life was to be trusted with them.

MAC". O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Macd. Wherefore did you so ?

[rious,
Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and fu-
Loyal, and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Out-ran the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan,
His filver skin lac’d with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance : there, the murtherers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refiain,

That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?

L. M. Help me hence, ho! [feeming to faint.
MAcd. Look to the lady.

[gather about ber. MAL. Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours ?

Don. What should be spoken here,
Where our fate, hid within an augre hole,
May rush, and seize us ? Let's away.
Our tears are not yet brew'd.

MAL. Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.

Ban. Look to the lady.-[L. MACBETH is carry'dout. And when we have our naked frailties hid, That suffer in exposure, let us meet, And question this most bloody piece of work, To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us : In the great hand of God I ftand; and, thence, Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight Of treasonous malice.

Macd. And so do I. all. So all.

MAC'. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i'the hall together. all. Well contented.

[Exeunt Macb. Ban. Macd. Lex. &c. MAL. What will you do? Let's not confort with them: To Thew an unfelt sorrow, is an office Which the false man does easy : I'll to England.

Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, There's daggers in men's smiles : the near in blood,

The nearer bloody.

Mal. This murtherous shaft that's shot, Hath not yet lighted;

and our safest way Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, But shift away: There's warrant in that theft, Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. (Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The fame. Without the Castle.

Enter Rosse, and an old Man. 0. m. Three-score and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night Hath trii’d former knowings.

Ros. Ah, good father, Thou seeft, the heavens, as troubi'd with man's act, Threaten his bloody stage : by the clock, 'tis day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame, That darkness does the face of earth intomb, When living light should kiss it?

0. m. 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On tuesday last, A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawkt at, and kill'd. (certain)

Ros. And Duncan's horses, (a thing moft ftrange, and Beauteous, and swift, the minions of their race, Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, fung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would Make war with man.

0. m. 'Tis said, they eat each other. Ros. They did fo; to the amazement of mine eyes,

17 Threatens 30 with Mankinde,

« PreviousContinue »