Imatges de pàgina
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Enter an Attendant.

What is your tidings?

Atten. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M.

Thou'rt mad to say it.

Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so, Would have inform'd for preparation.

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Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters: to beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent
flower,

Atten. So please you, it is true: our thane is But be the serpent under it. He that's coming

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Lady M.

Give him tending:

He brings great news. [Exit Attendant.] The raven himself is hoarse,

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th' effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry," Hold, hold!"-

Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.

Only look up clear; [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The Same. Before the Castle. Hautboys and Torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants.

Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. Ban. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle;

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SCENE VII.-The Same. A Room in the Castle. Hautboys and Torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service. Then, enter MACBETH.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly: if the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague th' inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends th' ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject;
Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other-

Enter LADY MACBETH.

How now! what news?

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If we should fail-?

Macb. Lady M. We fail. But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep, (Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassel so convince, That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie, as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon Th' unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell?

Macb. Bring forth men-children only! For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd, When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy

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him.

Ban. How goes the night, boy?

Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch.

Who's there?

Macb. A friend.

Ban. What, sir! not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:

Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the He hath been in unusual pleasure, and clock.

Ban. And she goes down at twelve.

Fle.
I take't, 'tis later, sir.
Ban. Hold, take my sword.-There's husbandry
in heaven;

Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers!
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose!-Give me my sword.-

Sent forth great largess to your offices.
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up
In measureless content.

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