Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then a soldier: Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice, Enter Orlando, with Adam. Duke Sen. Welcome. Set down your venerable burden, And let him feed. Orla. I thank you most for him. Adam. So had you need. I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you, As yet to question you about your fortunes. Go, No. IV.-MАСВЕТН. ACT II. SCENE II. MACBETH. O, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Is this a dagger which I see before me, [Exit Serv. The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to fight? or art thou but A dagger A dagger of the mind, a false creation Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace; 'That fummons thee to heaven, or to hell.. Enter Lady Macbeth. [A bell rings. [Exit. Lady. 'That which hath made them drunk, bath made me bold; What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire. Hark! peace! Whether they live or die. Enter Macbeth.. Mach. Who's there? whatsho! Lady. Lady. Alack! I'm afraid, they have awak'd; 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-My husband! Macb. Eve done the deed-didst thou not hear a noise? Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? Lady. Now. Macb. As I descended? Lady. Ay. Mach. Hark! - who lies is the second chamber? Lady. Donalbain. Mach. This is a forry fight. [Looks on his hands. Lady. A foolish thought, to say, a forry fight. Macb. There's one did laugh in his fleep, and one cry'd, Murther! They wak'd each other; and I stood and heard them; Again to fleep. Lady. There are two lodg'd together. Mach. One cry'd, God bless us! and Amen! the other; As they had feen me with these hangman's hands, Liftening their fear, I could not say, Amen, When they did fay, God bless us. Lady. Confider it not so deeply. Mach. But wherefore could I not pronounce, Amen ? I had most need of blessing, and Amen Stuck in my throat. Lady. Thefe 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 doth muxther fleep; the innocent fleep; Lady. What do you mean? Mach. Still it cry'd, fleep no more, to all the house: Glamis hath murther'd fleep. And therefore Cawdor Shall 1 Shall fleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more! The fleepy grooms with blood. Mach. I'll go no more. I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on't again, I dare not. Lady. Infirm of purpose; : Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their gullt. Knocks within. Mach. Whence is that knocking! [Exit. [Starting. How is it with me, when every noise appals me? Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather Making the green one red Enter Lady. Lady. My hands are of your colour; but I shame How easy is it then! Your constancy [Knock Hath left you unattended-Hark, more knocking! [Knock. Get on your night-gown, lest occafion call us, And shew as to be watchers. Be not loft So poorly in your thoughts. Mach. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. Wake, Duncan, with this knocking. Would thou couldst! [Exeunt. 4 N°. V. MACBETH. ACT III. SCENE IV. A Room of State in the Castle. A Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe, Lords, and Attendants. And play the humble host; Our hoftess keeps her state, but in best time We will require her welcome. [They fit. For my heart speaks, they're welcome. Enter first Murtherer. Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends; _ Mach. See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks. Both fides are even. Here I'll fit i' the midft. Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure The table round. - There's blood upon thy face. [To the Murtherer, afide, at the door. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then. Mach. 'Tis better thee without, than he within. Is he dispatch'd? Mur. My Lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Mach. Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet he's good, That did the like for Fleance; if thou didst it, Thou art the non-pareil. Mur. Most royal Sir, Fleance is scap'd. Mach. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect; Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad, and general, as the casing air: But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in To faucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? Mur. Ay, my good Lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head The leaft a death to Nature. e Mach. |