In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, | The taints and blames I laid upon myself, Macd. Boundless intemperance Mal. With this there grows, Macd. This avarice Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Mal. But I have none : The king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, For strangers to my nature. I am yet No less in truth, than life: my first false speaking Now we'll together; And the chance, of goodness, once, "Tis hard to reconcile. Enter a Doctor. Mal. Well; more anon. - Comes the king forth, Doct. Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched souls, I thank you, doctor. Macd. What's the disease he means? The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy; All unity on earth. Macd. O Scotland! Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live. - O nation miserable, Have banish'd me from Scotland. O, my breast, Mal. And sundry blessings hang about his throne, Macd. Rosse. Why, well. Macd. Rasse. How does my wife? | What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; And all my children? Well too. Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Rosse. No; they were well at peace, when I did leave them. Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech; How goes it? Rasse. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Mal. Be it their comfort, We are coming thither: gracious England hath Rosse. Macd. What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief, Due to some single breast? Rosse. No mind, that's honest, But in it shares some woe; though the main part Pertains to you alone. Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Rotse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard. Macd. Humph! I guess at it. Rasse. Your castle is surpriz'd; your wife, and babes, Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, To add the death of you. Mal. Merciful heaven! Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. I walking and other actual performances, what, at 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 paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a tost fast sleep. Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumbry agitation, besides her any time, have you heard her say? Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you should. Gent. Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to confirm my speech. 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. Doct. What is it she does now? Look how she | Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm, rubs her hands. 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! - Fye, my lord, fye! 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! Near Birnam wood Who then shall blame Well, march we on, To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd: Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely Meet we the medicin of the sickly weal: charged. And with him pour we, in our country's purge, Each drop of us. 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 nightgown; look not so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his 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, [Erit Lady Macbeth. Doct. Will she go now to bed? Gent. Directly. Len. Or so much as it needs, Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear. deeds Enter a Servant. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon Serv. Geese, villain? Ment. The English power is near, led on by I have liv'd long enough my way of life Malcolm, His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf: SCENE V.-Dunsinane. Within the Castle. Enter, with drums and colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers. Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, They come : Our castle's strength Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me. - - Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Macb. Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Till famine cling thee if thy speech be sooth, Enter, with drums and colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD, MACDUFF, &c. and their Army, with boughs. Mal. Now, near enough; your leavy screens And show like those you are:-You, worthy uncle, Siw. Fare you well. Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Macd. Macd. Re-enter MACDUFF. Turn, hell-hound, turn. Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Enter MACBETH. Macb. I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [They fight, and young SIWARD is slain. Alarums. Enter MACDUFF. Macd. That way the noise is: - Tyrant, show If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, Macd. Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, And live to be the show and gaze o'the time. I'll not yield, Macb. |