Shakespeare's First Folio Part 557

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lady.

La. That which hath made the[m] drunk, hath made me bold: What hath quench'd them, hath giuen me fire.

Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that shriek'd, The fatall Bell-man, which giues the stern'st good-night.

He is about it, the Doores are open: And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge With Snores. I haue drugg'd their Possets, That Death and Nature doe contend about them, Whether they liue, or dye.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Who's there? what hoa?

Lady. Alack, I am afraid they haue awak'd, And 'tis not done: th' attempt, and not the deed, Confounds vs: hearke: I lay'd their Daggers ready, He could not misse 'em. Had he not resembled My Father as he slept, I had don't.

My Husband?

Macb. I haue done the deed: Didst thou not heare a noyse?

Lady. I heard the Owle schreame, and the Crickets cry.

Did not you speake?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now

Macb. As I descended?

Lady. I

Macb. Hearke, who lyes i'th' second Chamber?

Lady. Donalbaine

Mac. This is a sorry sight

Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight

Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleepe, And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other: I stood, and heard them: But they did say their Prayers, And addrest them againe to sleepe

Lady. There are two lodg'd together

Macb. One cry'd G.o.d blesse vs, and Amen the other, As they had seene me with these Hangmans hands: Listning their feare, I could not say Amen, When they did say G.o.d blesse vs

Lady. Consider it not so deepely

Mac. But wherefore could not I p.r.o.nounce Amen?

I had most need of Blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat

Lady. These deeds must not be thought After these wayes: so, it will make vs mad

Macb. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more: Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe, Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care, The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath, Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course, Chiefe nourisher in Life's Feast

Lady. What doe you meane?

Macb. Still it cry'd, Sleepe no more to all the House: Glamis hath murther'd Sleepe, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleepe no more: Macbeth shall sleepe no more

Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why worthy Thane, You doe vnbend your n.o.ble strength, to thinke So braine-sickly of things: Goe get some Water, And wash this filthie Witnesse from your Hand.

Why did you bring these Daggers from the place?

They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare The sleepie Groomes with blood

Macb. Ile goe no more: I am afraid, to thinke what I haue done: Looke on't againe, I dare not

Lady. Infirme of purpose: Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead, Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Childhood, That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed, Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall, For it must seeme their Guilt.

Enter.

Knocke within.

Macb. Whence is that knocking?

How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?

What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.

Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather The mult.i.tudinous Seas incarnardine, Making the Greene one, Red.

Enter Lady.

Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame To weare a Heart so white.

Knocke.

I heare a knocking at the South entry: Retyre we to our Chamber: A little Water cleares vs of this deed.

How easie is it then? your Constancie Hath left you vnattended.

Knocke.

Hearke, more knocking.

Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs, And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost So poorely in your thoughts

Macb. To know my deed,

Knocke.

'Twere best not know my selfe.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking: I would thou could'st.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter a Porter. Knocking within.

Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were Porter of h.e.l.l Gate, hee should haue old turning the Key.

Knock.

Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.

Knock.

Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name?