The Same. |
|
Knocking within. Enter a Porter. |
Porter. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate he should have old turning the key. [Knocking within.] 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; have napkins enough about you; here you'll sweat for 't. [Knocking within.] 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 within.] 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 within.] 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 within.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate. |
|
Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX. |
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 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 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. |
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes. |
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 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 physics pain. |
This is the door. |
Macd. I'll make so bold to call, |
For 'tis my limited service. [Exit. |
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 confus'd events |
New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird |
Clamour'd 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 master-piece! |
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. [Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX. |
Awake! awake! |
Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! |
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! |
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, |
And look on death itself! up, up, and see |
The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! |
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, |
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. [Bell rings. |
|
Enter LADY MACBETH. |
Lady M. What's the business, |
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley |
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! |
Macd. O gentle lady! |
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak; |
The repetition in a woman's ear |
Would murder as it fell. |
|
Enter BANQUO. |
O Banquo! Banquo! |
Our royal master's murder'd! |
Lady M. Woe, alas! |
What! in our house? |
Ban. Too cruel any where. |
Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, |
And say it is not so. |
|
Re-Enter MACBETH and LENNOX. |
Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance |
I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant, |
There's nothing serious in mortality, |
All is but toys; renown and grace is dead, |
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere 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 stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. |
Macd. Your royal father's murder'd. |
Mal. O! by whom? |
Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done '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; no man's life |
Was to be trusted with them. |
Macb. O! yet I do repent me of my fury, |
That I did kill them. |
Macd. Wherefore did you so? |
Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, 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 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 murderers, |
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers |
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, |
That had a heart to love, and in that heart |
Courage to make's love known? |
Lady M. Help me hence, ho! |
Macd. Look to the lady. |
Mal. [Aside to DONALBAIN.] Why do we hold our tongues, |
That most may claim this argument for ours: |
Don. [Aside to MALCOLM.] What should be spoken |
Here where our fate, hid in an auger-hole, |
May rush and seize us? Let's away: our tears |
Are not yet brew'd. |
Mal. [Aside to DONALBAIN.] Nor our strong sorrow |
Upon the foot of motion. |
Ban. 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 undivulg'd pretence I fight |
Of treasonous malice. |
Macd. And so do I. |
All. So all. |
Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, |
And meet i' the hall together. |
All. Well contented. [Exeunt all but MALCOLM and DONALBAIN. |
Mal. What will you do? Let's not consort with them: |
To show 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 murderous 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. |
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