personal_faker 0.1.0

data/lib/personal_faker/texts/macbeth.rtf

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+MACBETH
+What is 't you say? the life?
+LENNOX
+Mean you his majesty?
+MACDUFF
+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.
+Bell rings
+
+Enter LADY MACBETH
+
+LADY MACBETH
+What's the business,
+That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
+The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
+MACDUFF
+O gentle lady,
+'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
+The repetition, in a woman's ear,
+Would murder as it fell.
+Enter BANQUO
+
+O Banquo, Banquo,
+Our royal master 's murder'd!
+LADY MACBETH
+Woe, alas!
+What, in our house?
+BANQUO
+Too cruel any where.
+Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
+And say it is not so.
+Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS
+
+MACBETH
+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
+
+DONALBAIN
+What is amiss?
+MACBETH
+You are, and do not know't:
+The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
+Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.
+MACDUFF
+Your royal father 's murder'd.
+MALCOLM
+O, by whom?
+LENNOX
+Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't:
+Their hands and faces were an badged with blood;
+So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
+Upon their pillows:
+They stared, and were distracted; no man's life
+Was to be trusted with them.
+MACBETH
+O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
+That I did kill them.
+MACDUFF
+Wherefore did you so?
+MACBETH
+Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
+Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
+The expedition my violent love
+Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
+His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
+And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
+For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
+Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
+Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
+That had a heart to love, and in that heart
+Courage to make 's love kno wn?
+LADY MACBETH
+Help me hence, ho!
+MACDUFF
+Look to the lady.
+MALCOLM
+[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues,
+That most may claim this argument for ours?
+DONALBAIN
+[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here,
+where our fate,
+Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us?
+Let 's away;
+Our tears are not yet brew'd.
+MALCOLM
+[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow
+Upon the foot of motion.
+BANQUO
+Look to the lady:
+LADY MACBETH is carried out
+
+And when we have our naked frailties hid,
+That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
+And question this most bloody piece of work,
+To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
+In the great hand of God I stand; and thence
+Against the undivulged pretence I fight
+Of treasonous malice.
+MACDUFF
+And so do I.
+ALL
+So all.
+MACBETH
+Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
+And meet i' the hall together.
+ALL
+Well contented.
+Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.
+
+MALCOLM
+What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
+To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
+Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.
+DONALBAIN
+To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
+Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
+There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
+The nearer bloody.
+MALCOLM
+This murderous shaft that's shot
+Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way
+Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
+And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
+But shift away: there's warrant in that theft
+Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle.
+
+Enter ROSS and an old Man
+Old Man
+Threescore and ten I can remember well:
+Within the volume of which time I have seen
+Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
+Hath trifled former knowings.
+ROSS
+Ah, good father,
+Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
+Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
+And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
+Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
+That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
+When living light should kiss it?
+Old Man
+'Tis unnatural,
+Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
+A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
+Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
+ROSS
+And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain--
+Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
+Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
+Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
+War with mankind.
+Old Man
+'Tis said they eat each other.
+ROSS
+They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes
+That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff.
+Enter MACDUFF
+
+How goes the world, sir, now?
+MACDUFF
+Why, see you not?
+ROSS
+Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
+MACDUFF
+Those that Macbeth hath slain.
+ROSS
+Alas, the day!
+What good could they pretend?
+MACDUFF
+They were suborn'd:
+Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
+Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
+Suspicion of the deed.
+ROSS
+'Gainst nature still!
+Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
+Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
+The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
+MACDUFF
+He is already named, and gone to Scone
+To be invested.
+ROSS
+Where is Duncan's body?
+MACDUFF
+Carried to Colmekill,
+The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
+And guardian of their bones.
+ROSS
+Will you to Scone?
+MACDUFF
+No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
+ROSS
+Well, I will thither.
+MACDUFF
+Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!
+Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
+ROSS
+Farewell, father.
+Old Man
+God's benison go with you; and with those
+That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
+Exeunt
+
+ACT III
+
+SCENE I. Forres. The palace.
+
+Enter BANQUO
+BANQUO
+Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
+As the weird women promised, and, I fear,
+Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said
+It should not stand in thy posterity,
+But that myself should be the root and father
+Of many kings. If there come truth from them--
+As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine--
+Why, by the verities on thee made good,
+May they not be my oracles as well,
+And set me up in hope? But hush! no more.
+Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants
+
+MACBETH
+Here's our chief guest.
+LADY MACBETH
+If he had been forgotten,
+It had been as a gap in our great feast,
+And all-thing unbecoming.
+MACBETH
+To-night we hold a solemn supper sir,
+And I'll request your presence.
+BANQUO
+Let your highness
+Command upon me; to the which my duties
+Are with a most indissoluble tie
+For ever knit.
+MACBETH
+Ride you this afternoon?
+BANQUO
+Ay, my good lord.
+MACBETH
+We should have else desired your good advice,
+Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,
+In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
+Is't far you ride?
+BANQUO
+As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
+'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
+I must become a borrower of the night
+For a dark hour or twain.
+MACBETH
+Fail not our feast.
+BANQUO
+My lord, I will not.
+MACBETH
+We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd
+In England and in Ireland, not confessing
+Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
+With strange invention: but of that to-morrow,
+When therewithal we shall have cause of state
+Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
+Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
+BANQUO
+Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's.
+MACBETH
+I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
+And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.
+Exit BANQUO
+
+Let every man be master of his time
+Till seven at night: to make society
+The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
+Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you!
+Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant
+
+Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men
+Our pleasure?
+ATTENDANT
+They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
+MACBETH
+Bring them before us.
+Exit Attendant
+
+To be thus is nothing;
+But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo
+Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
+Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares;
+And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
+He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
+To act in safety. There is none but he
+Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
+My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said,
+Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
+When first they put the name of king upon me,
+And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like
+They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
+Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
+And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
+Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
+No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so,
+For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind;
+For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
+Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
+Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
+Given to the common enemy of man,
+To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
+Rather than so, come fate into the list.
+And champion me to the utterance! Who's there!
+Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers
+
+Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
+Exit Attendant
+
+Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
+First Murderer
+It was, so please your highness.
+MACBETH
+Well then, now
+Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
+That it was he in the times past which held you
+So under fortune, which you thought had been
+Our innocent self: this I made good to you
+In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you,
+How you were borne in hand, how cross'd,
+the instruments,
+Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
+To half a soul and to a notion crazed
+Say 'Thus did Banquo.'
+First Murderer
+You made it known to us.
+MACBETH
+I did so, and went further, which is now
+Our point of second meeting. Do you find
+Your patience so predominant in your nature
+That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd
+To pray for this good man and for his issue,
+Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave
+And beggar'd yours for ever?
+First Murderer
+We are men, my liege.
+MACBETH
+Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
+As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
+Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept
+All by the name of dogs: the valued file
+Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
+The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
+According to the gift which bounteous nature
+Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive
+Particular addition. from the bill
+That writes them all alike: and so of men.
+Now, if you have a station in the file,
+Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't;
+And I will put that business in your bosoms,
+Whose execution takes your enemy off,
+Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
+Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
+Which in his death were perfect.
+Second Murderer
+I am one, my liege,
+Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
+Have so incensed that I am reckless what
+I do to spite the world.
+First Murderer
+And I another
+So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
+That I would set my lie on any chance,
+To mend it, or be rid on't.
+MACBETH
+Both of you
+Know Banquo was your enemy.
+Both Murderers
+True, my lord.
+MACBETH
+So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
+That every minute of his being thrusts
+Against my near'st of life: and though I could
+With barefaced power sweep him from my sight
+And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
+For certain friends that are both his and mine,
+Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
+Who I myself struck down; and thence it is,
+That I to your assistance do make love,
+Masking the business from the common eye
+For sundry weighty reasons.
+Second Murderer
+We shall, my lord,
+Perform what you command us.
+First Murderer
+Though our lives--
+MACBETH
+Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most
+I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
+Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
+The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
+And something from the palace; always thought
+That I require a clearness: and with him--
+To leave no rubs nor botches in the work--
+Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
+Whose absence is no less material to me
+Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
+Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart:
+I'll come to you anon.
+Both Murderers
+We are resolved, my lord.
+MACBETH
+I'll call upon you straight: abide within.
+Exeunt Murderers
+
+It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight,
+If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.
+Exit
+
+SCENE II. The palace.
+
+Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant
+LADY MACBETH
+Is Banquo gone from court?
+Servant
+Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
+LADY MACBETH
+Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
+For a few words.
+Servant
+Madam, I will.
+Exit
+
+LADY MACBETH
+Nought's had, all's spent,
+Where our desire is got without content:
+'Tis safer to be that which we destroy
+Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
+Enter MACBETH
+
+How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
+Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
+Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
+With them they think on? Things without all remedy
+Should be without regard: what's done is done.
+MACBETH
+We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it:
+She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
+Remains in danger of her former tooth.
+But let the frame of things disjoint, both the
+worlds suffer,
+Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep
+In the affliction of these terrible dreams
+That shake us nightly: better be with the dead,
+Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,
+Than on the torture of the mind to lie
+In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
+After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
+Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
+Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
+Can touch him further.
+LADY MACBETH
+Come on;
+Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
+Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.
+MACBETH
+So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:
+Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
+Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
+Unsafe the while, that we
+Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,
+And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
+Disguising what they are.
+LADY MACBETH
+You must leave this.
+MACBETH
+O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
+Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
+LADY MACBETH
+But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
+MACBETH
+There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
+Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
+His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
+The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
+Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
+A deed of dreadful note.
+LADY MACBETH
+What's to be done?
+MACBETH
+Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
+Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
+Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
+And with thy bloody and invisible hand
+Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
+Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow
+Makes wing to the rooky wood:
+Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
+While night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
+Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
+Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
+So, prithee, go with me.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE III. A park near the palace.
+
+Enter three Murderers
+First Murderer
+But who did bid thee join with us?
+Third Murderer
+Macbeth.
+Second Murderer
+He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
+Our offices and what we have to do
+To the direction just.
+First Murderer
+Then stand with us.
+The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
+Now spurs the lated traveller apace
+To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
+The subject of our watch.
+Third Murderer
+Hark! I hear horses.
+BANQUO
+[Within] Give us a light there, ho!
+Second Murderer
+Then 'tis he: the rest
+That are within the note of expectation
+Already are i' the court.
+First Murderer
+His horses go about.
+Third Murderer
+Almost a mile: but he does usually,
+So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
+Make it their walk.
+Second Murderer
+A light, a light!
+Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch
+
+Third Murderer
+'Tis he.
+First Murderer
+Stand to't.
+BANQUO
+It will be rain to-night.
+First Murderer
+Let it come down.
+They set upon BANQUO
+
+BANQUO
+O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
+Thou mayst revenge. O slave!
+Dies. FLEANCE escapes
+
+Third Murderer
+Who did strike out the light?
+First Murderer
+Wast not the way?
+Third Murderer
+There's but one down; the son is fled.
+Second Murderer
+We have lost
+Best half of our affair.
+First Murderer
+Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace.
+
+A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants
+MACBETH
+You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
+And last the hearty welcome.
+Lords
+Thanks to your majesty.
+MACBETH
+Ourself will mingle with society,
+And play the humble host.
+Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
+We will require her welcome.
+LADY MACBETH
+Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
+For my heart speaks they are welcome.
+First Murderer appears at the door
+
+MACBETH
+See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.
+Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst:
+Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
+The table round.
+Approaching the door
+
+There's blood on thy face.
+First Murderer
+'Tis Banquo's then.
+MACBETH
+'Tis better thee without than he within.
+Is he dispatch'd?
+First Murderer
+My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
+MACBETH
+Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good
+That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
+Thou art the nonpareil.
+First Murderer
+Most royal sir,
+Fleance is 'scaped.
+MACBETH
+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 am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in
+To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
+First Murderer
+Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
+With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
+The least a death to nature.
+MACBETH
+Thanks for that:
+There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
+Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
+No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow
+We'll hear, ourselves, again.
+Exit Murderer
+
+LADY MACBETH
+My royal lord,
+You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
+That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
+'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;
+From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
+Meeting were bare without it.
+MACBETH
+Sweet remembrancer!
+Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
+And health on both!
+LENNOX
+May't please your highness sit.
+The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place
+
+MACBETH
+Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
+Were the graced person of our Banquo present;
+Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
+Than pity for mischance!
+ROSS
+His absence, sir,
+Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
+To grace us with your royal company.
+MACBETH
+The table's full.
+LENNOX
+Here is a place reserved, sir.
+MACBETH
+Where?
+LENNOX
+Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?
+MACBETH
+Which of you have done this?
+Lords
+What, my good lord?
+MACBETH
+Thou canst not say I did it: never shake
+Thy gory locks at me.
+ROSS
+Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.
+LADY MACBETH
+Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,
+And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
+The fit is momentary; upon a thought
+He will again be well: if much you note him,
+You shall offend him and extend his passion:
+Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
+MACBETH
+Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
+Which might appal the devil.
+LADY MACBETH
+O proper stuff!
+This is the very painting of your fear:
+This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
+Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,
+Impostors to true fear, would well become
+A woman's story at a winter's fire,
+Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
+Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
+You look but on a stool.
+MACBETH
+Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
+how say you?
+Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
+If charnel-houses and our graves must send
+Those that we bury back, our monuments
+Shall be the maws of kites.
+GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes
+
+LADY MACBETH
+What, quite unmann'd in folly?
+MACBETH
+If I stand here, I saw him.
+LADY MACBETH
+Fie, for shame!
+MACBETH
+Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
+Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;
+Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
+Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
+That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
+And there an end; but now they rise again,
+With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
+And push us from our stools: this is more strange
+Than such a murder is.
+LADY MACBETH
+My worthy lord,
+Your noble friends do lack you.
+MACBETH
+I do forget.
+Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,
+I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
+To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
+Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
+I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
+And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
+Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
+And all to all.
+Lords
+Our duties, and the pledge.
+Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO
+
+MACBETH
+Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
+Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
+Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
+Which thou dost glare with!
+LADY MACBETH
+Think of this, good peers,
+But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
+Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
+MACBETH
+What man dare, I dare:
+Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
+The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
+Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
+Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
+And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
+If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
+The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
+Unreal mockery, hence!
+GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes
+
+Why, so: being gone,
+I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.
+LADY MACBETH
+You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
+With most admired disorder.
+MACBETH
+Can such things be,
+And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
+Without our special wonder? You make me strange
+Even to the disposition that I owe,
+When now I think you can behold such sights,
+And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
+When mine is blanched with fear.
+ROSS
+What sights, my lord?
+LADY MACBETH
+I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
+Question enrages him. At once, good night:
+Stand not upon the order of your going,
+But go at once.
+LENNOX
+Good night; and better health
+Attend his majesty!
+LADY MACBETH
+A kind good night to all!
+Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH
+
+MACBETH
+It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
+Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;
+Augurs and understood relations have
+By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
+The secret'st man of blood. What is the night?
+LADY MACBETH
+Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
+MACBETH
+How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
+At our great bidding?
+LADY MACBETH
+Did you send to him, sir?
+MACBETH
+I hear it by the way; but I will send:
+There's not a one of them but in his house
+I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
+And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:
+More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
+By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
+All causes shall give way: I am in blood
+Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
+Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
+Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
+Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.
+LADY MACBETH
+You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
+MACBETH
+Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
+Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:
+We are yet but young in deed.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE V. A Heath.
+
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE
+First Witch
+Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.
+HECATE
+Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
+Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
+To trade and traffic with Macbeth
+In riddles and affairs of death;
+And I, the mistress of your charms,
+The close contriver of all harms,
+Was never call'd to bear my part,
+Or show the glory of our art?
+And, which is worse, all you have done
+Hath been but for a wayward son,
+Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
+Loves for his own ends, not for you.
+But make amends now: get you gone,
+And at the pit of Acheron
+Meet me i' the morning: thither he
+Will come to know his destiny:
+Your vessels and your spells provide,
+Your charms and every thing beside.
+I am for the air; this night I'll spend
+Unto a dismal and a fatal end:
+Great business must be wrought ere noon:
+Upon the corner of the moon
+There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
+I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
+And that distill'd by magic sleights
+Shall raise such artificial sprites
+As by the strength of their illusion
+Shall draw him on to his confusion:
+He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
+He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:
+And you all know, security
+Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
+Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c
+
+Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
+Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
+Exit
+
+First Witch
+Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE VI. Forres. The palace.
+
+Enter LENNOX and another Lord
+LENNOX
+My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
+Which can interpret further: only, I say,
+Things have been strangely borne. The
+gracious Duncan
+Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead:
+And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
+Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
+For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.
+Who cannot want the thought how monstrous
+It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
+To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
+How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight
+In pious rage the two delinquents tear,
+That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
+Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
+For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
+To hear the men deny't. So that, I say,
+He has borne all things well: and I do think
+That had he Duncan's sons under his key--
+As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they
+should find
+What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
+But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd
+His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear
+Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell
+Where he bestows himself?
+Lord
+The son of Duncan,
+From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth
+Lives in the English court, and is received
+Of the most pious Edward with such grace
+That the malevolence of fortune nothing
+Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff
+Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid
+To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward:
+That, by the help of these--with Him above
+To ratify the work--we may again
+Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
+Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
+Do faithful homage and receive free honours:
+All which we pine for now: and this report
+Hath so exasperate the king that he
+Prepares for some attempt of war.
+LENNOX
+Sent he to Macduff?
+Lord
+He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,'
+The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
+And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time
+That clogs me with this answer.'
+LENNOX
+And that well might
+Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
+His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
+Fly to the court of England and unfold
+His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
+May soon return to this our suffering country
+Under a hand accursed!
+Lord
+I'll send my prayers with him.
+Exeunt
+
+ACT IV
+
+SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.
+
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches
+First Witch
+Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
+Second Witch
+Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
+Third Witch
+Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.
+First Witch
+Round about the cauldron go;
+In the poison'd entrails throw.
+Toad, that under cold stone
+Days and nights has thirty-one
+Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
+Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.
+ALL
+Double, double toil and trouble;
+Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
+Second Witch
+Fillet of a fenny snake,
+In the cauldron boil and bake;
+Eye of newt and toe of frog,
+Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
+Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
+Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
+For a charm of powerful trouble,
+Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
+ALL
+Double, double toil and trouble;
+Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
+Third Witch
+Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
+Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
+Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
+Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
+Liver of blaspheming Jew,
+Gall of goat, and slips of yew
+Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
+Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
+Finger of birth-strangled babe
+Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
+Make the gruel thick and slab:
+Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
+For the ingredients of our cauldron.
+ALL
+Double, double toil and trouble;
+Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
+Second Witch
+Cool it with a baboon's blood,
+Then the charm is firm and good.
+Enter HECATE to the other three Witches
+
+HECATE
+O well done! I commend your pains;
+And every one shall share i' the gains;
+And now about the cauldron sing,
+Live elves and fairies in a ring,
+Enchanting all that you put in.
+Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c
+
+HECATE retires
+
+Second Witch
+By the pricking of my thumbs,
+Something wicked this way comes.
+Open, locks,
+Whoever knocks!
+Enter MACBETH
+
+MACBETH
+How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
+What is't you do?
+ALL
+A deed without a name.
+MACBETH
+I conjure you, by that which you profess,
+Howe'er you come to know it, answer me:
+Though you untie the winds and let them fight
+Against the churches; though the yesty waves
+Confound and swallow navigation up;
+Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down;
+Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
+Though palaces and pyramids do slope
+Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
+Of nature's germens tumble all together,
+Even till destruction sicken; answer me
+To what I ask you.
+First Witch
+Speak.
+Second Witch
+Demand.
+Third Witch
+We'll answer.
+First Witch
+Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
+Or from our masters?
+MACBETH
+Call 'em; let me see 'em.
+First Witch
+Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
+Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
+From the murderer's gibbet throw
+Into the flame.
+ALL
+Come, high or low;
+Thyself and office deftly show!
+Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head
+
+MACBETH
+Tell me, thou unknown power,--
+First Witch
+He knows thy thought:
+Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
+First Apparition
+Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;
+Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.
+Descends
+
+MACBETH
+Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
+Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one
+word more,--
+First Witch
+He will not be commanded: here's another,
+More potent than the first.
+Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child
+
+Second Apparition
+Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
+MACBETH
+Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee.
+Second Apparition
+Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
+The power of man, for none of woman born
+Shall harm Macbeth.
+Descends
+
+MACBETH
+Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
+But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
+And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
+That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
+And sleep in spite of thunder.
+Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand
+
+What is this
+That rises like the issue of a king,
+And wears upon his baby-brow the round
+And top of sovereignty?
+ALL
+Listen, but speak not to't.
+Third Apparition
+Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
+Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
+Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
+Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
+Shall come against him.
+Descends
+
+MACBETH
+That will never be
+Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
+Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good!
+Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
+Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth
+Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
+To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
+Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
+Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever
+Reign in this kingdom?
+ALL
+Seek to know no more.
+MACBETH
+I will be satisfied: deny me this,
+And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
+Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
+Hautboys
+
+First Witch
+Show!
+Second Witch
+Show!
+Third Witch
+Show!
+ALL
+Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
+Come like shadows, so depart!
+A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following
+
+MACBETH
+Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
+Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair,
+Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
+A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
+Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
+What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
+Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more:
+And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
+Which shows me many more; and some I see
+That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:
+Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true;
+For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
+And points at them for his.
+Apparitions vanish
+
+What, is this so?
+First Witch
+Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
+Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
+Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
+And show the best of our delights:
+I'll charm the air to give a sound,
+While you perform your antic round:
+That this great king may kindly say,
+Our duties did his welcome pay.
+Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE
+
+MACBETH
+Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
+Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
+Come in, without there!
+Enter LENNOX
+
+LENNOX
+What's your grace's will?
+MACBETH
+Saw you the weird sisters?
+LENNOX
+No, my lord.
+MACBETH
+Came they not by you?
+LENNOX
+No, indeed, my lord.
+MACBETH
+Infected be the air whereon they ride;
+And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
+The galloping of horse: who was't came by?
+LENNOX
+'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
+Macduff is fled to England.
+MACBETH
+Fled to England!
+LENNOX
+Ay, my good lord.
+MACBETH
+Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits:
+The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
+Unless the deed go with it; from this moment
+The very firstlings of my heart shall be
+The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
+To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
+The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
+Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
+His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
+That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
+This deed I'll do before this purpose cool.
+But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen?
+Come, bring me where they are.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle.
+
+Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS
+LADY MACDUFF
+What had he done, to make him fly the land?
+ROSS
+You must have patience, madam.
+LADY MACDUFF
+He had none:
+His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
+Our fears do make us traitors.
+ROSS
+You know not
+Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
+His mansion and his titles in a place
+From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
+He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
+The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
+Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
+All is the fear and nothing is the love;
+As little is the wisdom, where the flight
+So runs against all reason.
+ROSS
+My dearest coz,
+I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
+He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
+The fits o' the season. I dare not speak
+much further;
+But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
+And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
+From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
+But float upon a wild and violent sea
+Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
+Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
+Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
+To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
+Blessing upon you!
+LADY MACDUFF
+Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
+ROSS
+I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
+It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
+I take my leave at once.
+Exit
+
+LADY MACDUFF
+Sirrah, your father's dead;
+And what will you do now? How will you live?
+Son
+As birds do, mother.
+LADY MACDUFF
+What, with worms and flies?
+Son
+With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
+The pitfall nor the gin.
+Son
+Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
+My father is not dead, for all your saying.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
+Son
+Nay, how will you do for a husband?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
+Son
+Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith,
+With wit enough for thee.
+Son
+Was my father a traitor, mother?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Ay, that he was.
+Son
+What is a traitor?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Why, one that swears and lies.
+Son
+And be all traitors that do so?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
+Son
+And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Every one.
+Son
+Who must hang them?
+LADY MACDUFF
+Why, the honest men.
+Son
+Then the liars and swearers are fools,
+for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
+the honest men and hang up them.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
+But how wilt thou do for a father?
+Son
+If he were dead, you'ld weep for
+him: if you would not, it were a good sign
+that I should quickly have a new father.
+LADY MACDUFF
+Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
+Enter a Messenger
+
+Messenger
+Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
+Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
+I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
+If you will take a homely man's advice,
+Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
+To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
+To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
+Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
+I dare abide no longer.
+Exit
+
+LADY MACDUFF
+Whither should I fly?
+I have done no harm. But I remember now
+I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
+Is often laudable, to do good sometime
+Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
+Do I put up that womanly defence,
+To say I have done no harm?
+Enter Murderers
+
+What are these faces?
+First Murderer
+Where is your husband?
+LADY MACDUFF
+I hope, in no place so unsanctified
+Where such as thou mayst find him.
+First Murderer
+He's a traitor.
+Son
+Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!
+First Murderer
+What, you egg!
+Stabbing him
+
+Young fry of treachery!
+Son
+He has kill'd me, mother:
+Run away, I pray you!
+Dies
+
+Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her
+
+SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace.
+
+Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF
+MALCOLM
+Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
+Weep our sad bosoms empty.
+MACDUFF
+Let us rather
+Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
+Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
+New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
+Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
+As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
+Like syllable of dolour.
+MALCOLM
+What I believe I'll wail,
+What know believe, and what I can redress,
+As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
+What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
+This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
+Was once thought honest: you have loved him well.
+He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young;
+but something
+You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
+To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
+To appease an angry god.
+MACDUFF
+I am not treacherous.
+MALCOLM
+But Macbeth is.
+A good and virtuous nature may recoil
+In an imperial charge. But I shall crave
+your pardon;
+That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:
+Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;
+Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
+Yet grace must still look so.
+MACDUFF
+I have lost my hopes.
+MALCOLM
+Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
+Why in that rawness left you wife and child,
+Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,
+Without leave-taking? I pray you,
+Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
+But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,
+Whatever I shall think.
+MACDUFF
+Bleed, bleed, poor country!
+Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
+For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou
+thy wrongs;
+The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:
+I would not be the villain that thou think'st
+For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
+And the rich East to boot.
+MALCOLM
+Be not offended:
+I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
+I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
+It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
+Is added to her wounds: I think withal
+There would be hands uplifted in my right;
+And here from gracious England have I offer
+Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
+When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
+Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
+Shall have more vices than it had before,
+More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,
+By him that shall succeed.
+MACDUFF
+What should he be?
+MALCOLM
+It is myself I mean: in whom I know
+All the particulars of vice so grafted
+That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
+Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
+Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
+With my confineless harms.
+MACDUFF
+Not in the legions
+Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
+In evils to top Macbeth.
+MALCOLM
+I grant him bloody,
+Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
+Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
+That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
+In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
+Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up
+The cistern of my lust, and my desire
+All continent impediments would o'erbear
+That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
+Than such an one to reign.
+MACDUFF
+Boundless intemperance
+In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
+The untimely emptying of the happy throne
+And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
+To take upon you what is yours: you may
+Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
+And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
+We have willing dames enough: there cannot be
+That vulture in you, to devour so many
+As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
+Finding it so inclined.
+MALCOLM
+With this there grows
+In my most ill-composed affection such
+A stanchless avarice that, were I king,
+I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
+Desire his jewels and this other's house:
+And my more-having would be as a sauce
+To make me hunger more; that I should forge
+Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
+Destroying them for wealth.
+MACDUFF
+This avarice
+Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
+Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
+The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
+Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will.
+Of your mere own: all these are portable,
+With other graces weigh'd.
+MALCOLM
+But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
+As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
+Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
+Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
+I have no relish of them, but abound
+In the division of each several crime,
+Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
+Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
+Uproar the universal peace, confound
+All unity on earth.
+MACDUFF
+O Scotland, Scotland!
+MALCOLM
+If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
+I am as I have spoken.
+MACDUFF
+Fit to govern!
+No, not to live. O nation miserable,
+With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
+When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
+Since that the truest issue of thy throne
+By his own interdiction stands accursed,
+And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
+Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,
+Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
+Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
+These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
+Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
+Thy hope ends here!
+MALCOLM
+Macduff, this noble passion,
+Child of integrity, hath from my soul
+Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
+To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
+By many of these trains hath sought to win me
+Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
+From over-credulous haste: but God above
+Deal between thee and me! for even now
+I put myself to thy direction, and
+Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
+The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
+For strangers to my nature. I am yet
+Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
+Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
+At no time broke my faith, would not betray
+The devil to his fellow and delight
+No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
+Was this upon myself: what I am truly,
+Is thine and my poor country's to command:
+Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
+Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
+Already at a point, was setting forth.
+Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
+Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?
+MACDUFF
+Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
+'Tis hard to reconcile.
+Enter a Doctor
+
+MALCOLM
+Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?
+Doctor
+Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls
+That stay his cure: their malady convinces
+The great assay of art; but at his touch--
+Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand--
+They presently amend.
+MALCOLM
+I thank you, doctor.
+Exit Doctor
+
+MACDUFF
+What's the disease he means?
+MALCOLM
+'Tis call'd the evil:
+A most miraculous work in this good king;
+Which often, since my here-remain in England,
+I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
+Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
+All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
+The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
+Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
+Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
+To the succeeding royalty he leaves
+The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
+He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
+And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
+That speak him full of grace.
+Enter ROSS
+
+MACDUFF
+See, who comes here?
+MALCOLM
+My countryman; but yet I know him not.
+MACDUFF
+My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
+MALCOLM
+I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
+The means that makes us strangers!
+ROSS
+Sir, amen.
+MACDUFF
+Stands Scotland where it did?
+ROSS
+Alas, poor country!
+Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
+Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
+But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
+Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air
+Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
+A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
+Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
+Expire before the flowers in their caps,
+Dying or ere they sicken.
+MACDUFF
+O, relation
+Too nice, and yet too true!
+MALCOLM
+What's the newest grief?
+ROSS
+That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker:
+Each minute teems a new one.
+MACDUFF
+How does my wife?
+ROSS
+Why, well.
+MACDUFF
+And all my children?
+ROSS
+Well too.
+MACDUFF
+The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?
+ROSS
+No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.
+MACDUFF
+But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?
+ROSS
+When I came hither to transport the tidings,
+Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
+Of many worthy fellows that were out;
+Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
+For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
+Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
+Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
+To doff their dire distresses.
+MALCOLM
+Be't their comfort
+We are coming thither: gracious England hath
+Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
+An older and a better soldier none
+That Christendom gives out.
+ROSS
+Would I could answer
+This comfort with the like! But I have words
+That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
+Where hearing should not latch them.
+MACDUFF
+What concern they?
+The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
+Due to some single breast?
+ROSS
+No mind that's honest
+But in it shares some woe; though the main part
+Pertains to you alone.
+MACDUFF
+If it be mine,
+Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
+ROSS
+Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
+Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
+That ever yet they heard.
+MACDUFF
+Hum! I guess at it.
+ROSS
+Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
+Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
+Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
+To add the death of you.
+MALCOLM
+Merciful heaven!
+What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
+Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
+Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
+MACDUFF
+My children too?
+ROSS
+Wife, children, servants, all
+That could be found.
+MACDUFF
+And I must be from thence!
+My wife kill'd too?
+ROSS
+I have said.
+MALCOLM
+Be comforted:
+Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
+To cure this deadly grief.
+MACDUFF
+He has no children. All my pretty ones?
+Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
+What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
+At one fell swoop?
+MALCOLM
+Dispute it like a man.
+MACDUFF
+I shall do so;
+But I must also feel it as a man:
+I cannot but remember such things were,
+That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
+And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
+They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
+Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
+Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!
+MALCOLM
+Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
+Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
+MACDUFF
+O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
+And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
+Cut short all intermission; front to front
+Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
+Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
+Heaven forgive him too!
+MALCOLM
+This tune goes manly.
+Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
+Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth
+Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
+Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may:
+The night is long that never finds the day.
+Exeunt
+
+ACT V
+
+SCENE I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.
+
+Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman
+Doctor
+I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive
+no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
+Gentlewoman
+Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen
+her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon
+her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,
+write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again
+return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
+Doctor
+A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once
+the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of
+watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her
+walking and other actual performances, what, at any
+time, have you heard her say?
+Gentlewoman
+That, sir, which I will not report after her.
+Doctor
+You may to me: and 'tis most meet you should.
+Gentlewoman
+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.
+Doctor
+How came she by that light?
+Gentlewoman
+Why, it stood by her: she has light by her
+continually; 'tis her command.
+Doctor
+You see, her eyes are open.
+Gentlewoman
+Ay, but their sense is shut.
+Doctor
+What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
+Gentlewoman
+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 MACBETH
+Yet here's a spot.
+Doctor
+Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from
+her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
+LADY MACBETH
+Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why,
+then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my
+lord, fie! 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.
+Doctor
+Do you mark that?
+LADY MACBETH
+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.
+Doctor
+Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
+Gentlewoman
+She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of
+that: heaven knows what she has known.
+LADY MACBETH
+Here's the smell of the blood still: all the
+perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little
+hand. Oh, oh, oh!
+Doctor
+What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
+Gentlewoman
+I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the
+dignity of the whole body.
+Doctor
+Well, well, well,--
+Gentlewoman
+Pray God it be, sir.
+Doctor
+This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known
+those which have walked in their sleep who have died
+holily in their beds.
+LADY MACBETH
+Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so
+pale.--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he
+cannot come out on's grave.
+Doctor
+Even so?
+LADY MACBETH
+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!
+Exit
+
+Doctor
+Will she go now to bed?
+Gentlewoman
+Directly.
+Doctor
+Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
+Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
+To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets:
+More needs she the divine than the physician.
+God, God forgive us all! Look after her;
+Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
+And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night:
+My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.
+I think, but dare not speak.
+Gentlewoman
+Good night, good doctor.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE II. The country near Dunsinane.
+
+Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers
+MENTEITH
+The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
+His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:
+Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
+Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
+Excite the mortified man.
+ANGUS
+Near Birnam wood
+Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
+CAITHNESS
+Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
+LENNOX
+For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
+Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
+And many unrough youths that even now
+Protest their first of manhood.
+MENTEITH
+What does the tyrant?
+CAITHNESS
+Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
+Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him
+Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
+He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
+Within the belt of rule.
+ANGUS
+Now does he feel
+His secret murders sticking on his hands;
+Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
+Those he commands move only in command,
+Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
+Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
+Upon a dwarfish thief.
+MENTEITH
+Who then shall blame
+His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
+When all that is within him does condemn
+Itself for being there?
+CAITHNESS
+Well, march we on,
+To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
+Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
+And with him pour we in our country's purge
+Each drop of us.
+LENNOX
+Or so much as it needs,
+To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
+Make we our march towards Birnam.
+Exeunt, marching
+
+SCENE III. Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
+
+Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants
+MACBETH
+Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:
+Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
+I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
+Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
+All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
+'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
+Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly,
+false thanes,
+And mingle with the English epicures:
+The mind I sway by and the heart I bear
+Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
+Enter a Servant
+
+The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
+Where got'st thou that goose look?
+Servant
+There is ten thousand--
+MACBETH
+Geese, villain!
+Servant
+Soldiers, sir.
+MACBETH
+Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
+Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
+Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
+Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
+Servant
+The English force, so please you.
+MACBETH
+Take thy face hence.
+Exit Servant
+
+Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
+When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
+Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
+I have lived long enough: my way of life
+Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
+And that which should accompany old age,
+As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
+I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
+Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
+Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!
+Enter SEYTON
+
+SEYTON
+What is your gracious pleasure?
+MACBETH
+What news more?
+SEYTON
+All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
+MACBETH
+I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
+Give me my armour.
+SEYTON
+'Tis not needed yet.
+MACBETH
+I'll put it on.
+Send out more horses; skirr the country round;
+Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
+How does your patient, doctor?
+Doctor
+Not so sick, my lord,
+As she is troubled with thick coming fancies,
+That keep her from her rest.
+MACBETH
+Cure her of that.
+Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
+Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
+Raze out the written troubles of the brain
+And with some sweet oblivious antidote
+Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
+Which weighs upon the heart?
+Doctor
+Therein the patient
+Must minister to himself.
+MACBETH
+Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.
+Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
+Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.
+Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
+The water of my land, find her disease,
+And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
+I would applaud thee to the very echo,
+That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
+What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,
+Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them?
+Doctor
+Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
+Makes us hear something.
+MACBETH
+Bring it after me.
+I will not be afraid of death and bane,
+Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
+Doctor
+[Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
+Profit again should hardly draw me here.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE IV. Country near Birnam wood.
+
+Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching
+MALCOLM
+Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
+That chambers will be safe.
+MENTEITH
+We doubt it nothing.
+SIWARD
+What wood is this before us?
+MENTEITH
+The wood of Birnam.
+MALCOLM
+Let every soldier hew him down a bough
+And bear't before him: thereby shall we shadow
+The numbers of our host and make discovery
+Err in report of us.
+Soldiers
+It shall be done.
+SIWARD
+We learn no other but the confident tyrant
+Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
+Our setting down before 't.
+MALCOLM
+'Tis his main hope:
+For where there is advantage to be given,
+Both more and less have given him the revolt,
+And none serve with him but constrained things
+Whose hearts are absent too.
+MACDUFF
+Let our just censures
+Attend the true event, and put we on
+Industrious soldiership.
+SIWARD
+The time approaches
+That will with due decision make us know
+What we shall say we have and what we owe.
+Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
+But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
+Towards which advance the war.
+Exeunt, marching
+
+SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle.
+
+Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum and colours
+MACBETH
+Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
+The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
+Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
+Till famine and the ague eat them up:
+Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
+We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
+And beat them backward home.
+A cry of women within
+
+What is that noise?
+SEYTON
+It is the cry of women, my good lord.
+Exit
+
+MACBETH
+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 slaughterous thoughts
+Cannot once start me.
+Re-enter SEYTON
+
+Wherefore was that cry?
+SEYTON
+The queen, my lord, is dead.
+MACBETH
+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.
+Enter a Messenger
+
+Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
+Messenger
+Gracious my lord,
+I should report that which I say I saw,
+But know not how to do it.
+MACBETH
+Well, say, sir.
+Messenger
+As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
+I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
+The wood began to move.
+MACBETH
+Liar and slave!
+Messenger
+Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
+Within this three mile may you see it coming;
+I say, a moving grove.
+MACBETH
+If thou speak'st false,
+Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
+Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
+I care not if thou dost for me as much.
+I pull in resolution, and begin
+To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
+That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood
+Do come to Dunsinane:' and now a wood
+Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!
+If this which he avouches does appear,
+There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
+I gin to be aweary of the sun,
+And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
+Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack!
+At least we'll die with harness on our back.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE VI. Dunsinane. Before the castle.
+
+Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, and their Army, with boughs
+MALCOLM
+Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down.
+And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,
+Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
+Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we
+Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,
+According to our order.
+SIWARD
+Fare you well.
+Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
+Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
+MACDUFF
+Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
+Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
+Exeunt
+
+SCENE VII. Another part of the field.
+
+Alarums. Enter MACBETH
+MACBETH
+They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
+But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he
+That was not born of woman? Such a one
+Am I to fear, or none.
+Enter YOUNG SIWARD
+
+YOUNG SIWARD
+What is thy name?
+MACBETH
+Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
+YOUNG SIWARD
+No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
+Than any is in hell.
+MACBETH
+My name's Macbeth.
+YOUNG SIWARD
+The devil himself could not pronounce a title
+More hateful to mine ear.
+MACBETH
+No, nor more fearful.
+YOUNG SIWARD
+Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
+I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
+They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain
+
+MACBETH
+Thou wast born of woman
+But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
+Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
+Exit
+
+Alarums. Enter MACDUFF
+
+MACDUFF
+That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
+If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine,
+My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
+I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
+Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,
+Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge
+I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
+By this great clatter, one of greatest note
+Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
+And more I beg not.
+Exit. Alarums
+
+Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD
+
+SIWARD
+This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd:
+The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
+The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
+The day almost itself professes yours,
+And little is to do.
+MALCOLM
+We have met with foes
+That strike beside us.
+SIWARD
+Enter, sir, the castle.
+Exeunt. Alarums
+
+SCENE VIII. Another part of the field.
+
+Enter MACBETH
+MACBETH
+Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
+On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
+Do better upon them.
+Enter MACDUFF
+
+MACDUFF
+Turn, hell-hound, turn!
+MACBETH
+Of all men else I have avoided thee:
+But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
+With blood of thine already.
+MACDUFF
+I have no words:
+My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
+Than terms can give thee out!
+They fight
+
+MACBETH
+Thou losest labour:
+As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
+With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:
+Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
+I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,
+To one of woman born.
+MACDUFF
+Despair thy charm;
+And let the angel whom thou still hast served
+Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
+Untimely ripp'd.
+MACBETH
+Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
+For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
+And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
+That palter with us in a double sense;
+That keep the word of promise to our ear,
+And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.
+MACDUFF
+Then yield thee, coward,
+And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:
+We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
+Painted on a pole, and underwrit,
+'Here may you see the tyrant.'
+MACBETH
+I will not yield,
+To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
+And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
+Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
+And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
+Yet I will try the last. Before my body
+I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
+And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'
+Exeunt, fighting. Alarums
+
+Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers
+
+MALCOLM
+I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.
+SIWARD
+Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
+So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
+MALCOLM
+Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
+ROSS
+Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
+He only lived but till he was a man;
+The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
+In the unshrinking station where he fought,
+But like a man he died.
+SIWARD
+Then he is dead?
+ROSS
+Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
+Must not be measured by his worth, for then
+It hath no end.
+SIWARD
+Had he his hurts before?
+ROSS
+Ay, on the front.
+SIWARD
+Why then, God's soldier be he!
+Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
+I would not wish them to a fairer death:
+And so, his knell is knoll'd.
+MALCOLM
+He's worth more sorrow,
+And that I'll spend for him.
+SIWARD
+He's worth no more
+They say he parted well, and paid his score:
+And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.
+Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head
+
+MACDUFF
+Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands
+The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
+I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
+That speak my salutation in their minds;
+Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
+Hail, King of Scotland!
+ALL
+Hail, King of Scotland!
+Flourish
+
+MALCOLM
+We shall not spend a large expense of time
+Before we reckon with your several loves,
+And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
+Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
+In such an honour named. What's more to do,
+Which would be planted newly with the time,
+As calling home our exiled friends abroad
+That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
+Producing forth the cruel ministers
+Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
+Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
+Took off her life; this, and what needful else
+That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
+We will perform in measure, time and place:
+So, thanks to all at once and to each one,
+Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
+Flourish. Exeunt