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Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave of care,
What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house. Glamis hath murdered sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more — Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady M. Who was it that thus cried ? Why, worthy thane.
I'll go no more.
Infirm of purpose !
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 color; but I shame To wear a heart so 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 Hath left you unattended. — [Knocking.] 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.
[Knock. Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou could'st!
SCENE III. The same.
[Knocking within. Porter. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. | Knocking.) Knock, knock, knock. Who's there, i' the name of Beelzebub ? Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty. Come in time; bave napkins enough about you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking.] Knock, knock. Who's there, i' the other devil's name? 'Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to Heaven. O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking.] 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 roast your goose. [Knocking.) 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 professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon; 1 pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate.
Enter MACDUFF and LENOX. Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?
Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock; and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
Macd. What three things does drink especially provoke?
Port. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes tbe 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 sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
Macd. I believe drink gave thee the lie, last night.
Port. That it did, sir, 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 ?-
Enter MACBETH. Len. Good-morrow, noble sir ! Macb.
Good-morrow, both! Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane ? Macb.
Not yet. Macd. He did command me to call timely on him; I have almost slipped the hour. Macb.
I'll bring you to him.
Macb. The labor, we delight in, physics pain.
I'll make so bold to call,
[Exit MACDUFF. Len. Goes the king hence to-day? Macb.
He does ; — he did appoint so. Len. The night has been unruly; where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death; And prophesying, with accents terrible, Of dire combustion, and confused events, New hatched to the woful time. The obscure bird Clamored the livelong night; some say the earth Was feverous, and did shake. Macb.
'Twas a rough night. Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.
Re-enter MACDUFF. Macd. O horror! horror! horror! tongue, nor heart, Cannot conceive, nor name thee! Macb. Len.
What's the matter? Macd. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o'the building Macb.
What is't you say? The life? Len. Mean you his majesty ?
Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight With a new Gorgon. - Do not bid me speak; See and then speak yourselves.—Awake! awake!
[Exeunt MACBETH and LENOX. Ring the alarum-bell; — Murder! and treason! Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm ! awake! Shake off this drowsy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!-Up, up, and see
[Bell rings Enter LADY MACBETH. Lady M.
What's the business,
ó, gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak. The repetition in a woman's ear, Would murder as it fell.-- O Banquo! Banquo !
Too cruel, any where.-
Re-enter MACBETH and LENOX.
Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN.
You are, and do not know it.
Macd. Your royal father's murdered.
0, by whom?
Macb. O, yet, I do repent me of my fury,
Wherefore did you so ?
Macb. Who can be wise, amazed, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment ? No man. The expedition of my violent love Outran the pauser reason.—Here lay Duncan, His silver skin laced with his golden blood; And his gashed stabs looked like a breach in nature, For ruin's wasteful entrance. There, the murderers, Steeped in the colors of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breeched with gore. Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart Courage, to make his love known? Lady M.
Help me hence, ho! Macd. Look to the lady. Mal.
Why do we hold our tongues,
Nor our strong sorrow
Look to the lady;
(LADY MACBETH is carried out. 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 stand; and, thence, Against the undivulged pretence I fight Of treasonous malice. Macb.
And so do I.
[Exeunt all but MAL. and Don.
Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
This murderous shaft that's shot,