Upon his death? [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE 1.-The same. Court within the castle. Enter Banquo and Fleance, and a servant, with a torch before them. Ban. How goes the night, boy? Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Ban. And she goes down at twelve. Fle. I take't, 'tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword:-There's husbandry! in heaven, Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. And yet I would not sleep: Merciful powers! Enter Macbeth, and a servant with a torch. Who's there? Macb. A friend. Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up (1) Thrift. (2) Bounty. 73) The rooms appropriated to servants. (4) Code. Macb. Being unprepar'd, Our will became the servant to defect; Ban. All's well I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: To you they have show'd some truth. Macb. I think not of them; Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, Would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time. Ban. At your kind'st leisure. Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent,-when 'tis, It shall make honour for you. Ban. So I lose none, I shall be counsel'd. Good repose, Macb. the while! Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you! [Ex. Ban. Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to-bed. [Ex. Ser. Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses, And on thy blade, and dudgeon,1 gouts2 of blood, (1) Haft. VOL. III. (2) Drops. 2 A Which was not so before.-There's no such thing: Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his de sign Moves like a ghost.Thou sure and firm set earth, What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire :- 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, Macb. [Within.] Who's there?what, ho! Enter Macbeth. • Macb. I have done the deed:-Didst thou not hear a noise? Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crick ets cry. Did not you speak? Macb. When? Lady M. Now. Macb. As I descended? 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 his 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. Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen? I had most need of blessing, and amen Stuck in my throat. ***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; (1) As if. Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleavel 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 thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think Macb. I'll go no more: I 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. Macb. Exit. Knocking within. 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 scas incarnardine,2 Making the green one red. (1) Sleave is unwrought silk. (2) To incarnardine is to stain of a flesh-colour. |