to, and not stand to: in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

Macd. I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

Port. That it did, sir, i' the very throat o' me: but I 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?—

Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.

Re-enter MACBETH.

Len. Good-morrow, noble sir!
Macb.

Good-morrow, both!

Not yet.

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.

I'll bring you to him.

Macb.
Macd. I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet 'tis one.

Macb. 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?
Macb.

[Exit MACDUFF.

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 confus'd events,

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

Macb.

"Twas a rough night.

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel

A fellow to it.

Re-enter MACDUFF.

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

Cannot conceive nor name thee!

Macb., Len.

What's the matter?

Macd. Confusion now hath made his master-piece!

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 MACB. and LEN.

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!

Lady M.

[Alarum-bell rings.

Re-enter Lady MACBETH.
What's the business,

O gentle lady,

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.

Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX.

Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd 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?

Macb.

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.

Macd. Your royal father's murder'd.

Mal.

O, by whom?
Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood;
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows:

They star'd, and were distracted; no man's life
Was to be trusted with them.

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

That I did kill them.

Macd.

Wherefore did you so?

Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and furious. Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:

The expedition of my violent love

Out-ran the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin lac'd 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 known?
Lady M.

Macd. Look to the lady.

Mal.

Help me hence, ho!

Why do we hold our tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours?

Don. 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.

Mal.

Upon the foot of motion.

Ban.

Nor our strong sorrow

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 undivulg'd pretence I fight

Of treasonous malice.

Macd.

All.

And so do I.

So all.

Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i' the hall together.

All.

Well contented.

[Exeunt all but MAL. and DON.

Mal. 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.

Don. 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.

Mal.
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

This murderous shaft that's shot

Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same.

Without the Castle.

Enter Ross and an old Man.

Old M. 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 M.

'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 M.

Ross. They did so; That look'd upon't.

'Tis said they eat each other.
to the amazement of mine eyes,
Here comes the good Macduff.

Enter MACDUFF.

How goes the world, sir, now?

Macd.

Why, see you not?

Ross. Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Ross.

What good could they pretend?

Macd.

Alas, the day!

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.

Macd. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone
To be invested.

Ross.

Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colme-kill,

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,

And guardian of their bones.

Ross.

Will you to Scone?

Well, I will thither.

Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Ross.

Macd. Well, may you see things well done there,―adieu!Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

Ross. Farewell, father.

Old M. 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. A Room in the Palace.

Enter BANQUO.

Ban. Thou hast it now,-king, Cawdor, Glamis, all

As the weird women promis'd; 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.