The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howI's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.- -Thou sure and firm-set earth,

Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,

And take the present horror from the time,

Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives; Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

I

go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell

[A bell rings.

That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter Lady МАСВЕТН.

Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:

What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:-
Hark! Peace!

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd
their possets,'

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live, or die.

Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho!
Lady M. 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,

' posset, milk curdled with wine. This was usually taken just before bed-time.

He could not miss them.-Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't.-My husband?

Enter MACBeth.

Macb. I have done the deed:-Didst thou not hear a noise?

Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets

Macb. This is a sorry sight.

Donalbain.

[Looking on his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one

cried, Murder!

That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them:

But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep.

Lady M.

There are two lodg'd together. Macb. One cried, God bless us! and, Amen, the

other;

As' they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say, amen,

When they did say, God bless us.

Lady M.

Consider it not so deeply.

pronounce, amen?

Macb. But wherefore could not I
I had most need of blessing, and amen
Stuck in my throat.

'As if.

Lady M.

These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no

more!

Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave' of care,
The death of each day's life,' sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast ;-

Lady M.

What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house;

Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy
You do unbend your noble strength, to think [thane,
So brainsickly of things:-Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.-
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: Go, carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.

I

Macb

I'll go no more: am afraid to think what I have done; Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady M.

Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers: The sleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,

I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

For it must seem their guilt. [Exit. Knocking within.
Macb.
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

'sleave, the ravelled knotty part of the silk.
The end of each day's labour.

The multitudinous seas incarnardine,'

Making the green-one red.

Re-enter Lady MACBETH.

Lady M. My hands are of your colour; 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

[knocking :

Hath left you unattended.-[Knocking.] Hark! more

Get on your nightgown, 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! Ay, 'would thou

could'st!

SCENE III.--The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter a Porter. [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, 'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty : Come in time; have napkins3 enough about you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking.] Knock, knock: Who's there, i' th' 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

turn to a red colour. 3 handkerchiefs.

2 i. e. constant turning of the key. + Meaning, a Jesuit.

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; I 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.

Macd. Is thy master stirring?

Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.

Good-morrow, both.

Not yet.

Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
Macb.
Macd. He did command me to call timely on him;

I have almost slipp'd the hour.

Macb.
I'll bring you to him.
Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you;

But yet, 'tis one.

Macb. The labour we delight in, physicks pain.

This is the door.

Macd.

I'll make so bold to call,

For 'tis my limited2 service.

Len.

From hence to-day?

'The archness of the joke consists in this, that a French hose being very short and straight, a tailor must be master of his trade who could steal any thing from thence.-WARBURTON.

appointed service.