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I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

SCENE II. The same.

Enter LADY MACBETH.

[Exit.

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 awaked, And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't.

Enter MACBETH.

My husband!

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Mach. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?

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

Did not you speak?

Macb.

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When?

Now.

As I descended?

Who lies i' the second chamber?

Macb. This is a sorry sight.

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[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 lodged 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!"

Consider it not so deeply. 30

Lady M. Mach. 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,

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?
Mach. 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.'

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Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,

You do unbend your noble strength, to think
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.

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. [Exit.

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Knocking within. Macb. Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appalls 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 colour; but I shame

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To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] 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 within.] Hark! more knocking.

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.

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[Knocking within.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst [Exeunt.

SCENE III. 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 enow about you: here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock! Who's there, in 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 devilporter 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.

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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.

40

Macd. I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. Port. That it did, sir, i' the very throat on me: but 1 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 awaked him; here he comes.
Len. Good morrow, noble sir.
Mach.

Good morrow,

both.

Not yet.

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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.

Mach. The labour we delight in physics pain.

This is the door.

Macd.

I'll make so bold to call,

For 'tis my limited service.

Len. Goes the king hence to-day?
Mach.

[Exit.

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 hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird
Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth
Was feverous and did shake.

Mach.

"Twas a rough night.

Re-enter MACDUFF.

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.

Macd. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart

Cannot conceive nor name thee!

60

Macb.
Len.

What's the matter?

70

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.

[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.

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.

"Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition, in a woman's ear,

Would murder as it fell.

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[Beil rings.

O gentle lady,

90

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Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with Ross.

Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived 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?

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