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That still for carrion carcases doth crave:
On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owle,
Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle;
And all about it wandring ghostes did wayle and howl:

And all about old stocks and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit nor leafe was ever seen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged beene,
Whose carcases were scattered on the greene,
And throwne about the cliffs. Arrived there,
That bare-head knight, for dread and dolefull teene,
Would faine have fled, ne durst approchen neare;
But the other forst him staye, and comforted in feare.

That darksome cave they enter, where they find
That cursed man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullein mind:

His grieslie lockes, long growen and unbound,
Disordred hong about his shoulders round,
And hid his face; through which his hollow eyne
Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound;

His raw-bone cheeks, through penurie and pine,
Were shronke into his iawes, as he did never dine.

His garment, nought but many ragged clouts,
With thorns together pind and patched was,
The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts:
And him beside there lay, upon the gras,
A dreary corse, whose life away did pas,
All wallowd in his own yet luke-warme blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas!
In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood,

And made an open passage for the gushing flood.

SPENSER.

A LANDSCAPE.

ONE day, as he did raunge the fields abroad,
Whilest his faire Pastorella was elsewhere,
He chaunst to come, far from all peoples troad,
Unto a place, whose pleasaunce did appere
To passe all others on the Earth which were:
For all that ever was by Natures skill
Devizd to worke delight was gatherd there;
And there by her were poured forth at fill,
As if, this to adorne, she all the rest did pill.

It was an hill plaste in an open plaine,

That round about was borderd with a wood
Of matchlesse hight, that seemd th' earth to disdaine;
In which all trees of honour stately stood,
And did all winter as in sommer bud,

Spredding pavilions for the birds to bowre,
Which in their lower braunches sung aloud;
And in their tops the soring hauke did towre,
Sitting like king of fowles in maiesty and powre :

And at the foote thereof a gentle flud

His silver waves did softly tumble downe,
Unmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud;

Ne mote wylde beastes, ne mote the ruder clowne,
Thereto approch; ne filth mote therein drowne :
But nymphes and faeries by the bancks did sit
In the woods shade which did the waters crowne,
Keeping all noysome things away from it,
And to the water's fall tuning their accents fit.

And on the top thereof a spacious plaine
Did spred itselfe, to serve to all delight,

Either to daunce, when they to daunce would faine,
Or else to course-about their bases light
Ne ought there wanted, which for pleasure might
Desired be, or thence to banish bale:

So pleasauntly the hill with equall hight
Did seeme to overlooke the lowly vale;
Therefore it rightly cleeped was Mount Acidale.

MACBETH.

SPENSER.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Macb. Is this a dagger which I see before me, 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 sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:

It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er one half the world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtained sleeper; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and withered murder,
Alarumed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. While I threat, he lives,
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan! for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell!

Lady.

SCENE II.

Enter LADY MACBETH.

That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold;

What hath quenched them, hath given me fire. Hark!

Peace!

It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman,

Which gives the sternest good-night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms

Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugged their possets,

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live, or die.

Macb. [Within.] Who's there? what, oh!

Lady. Alack! I am afraid they have awaked, And 'tis not done: the attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us: Hark! I laid their daggers ready,

He could not miss them.

Had he not resembled My father, as he slept, I had done't. My husband?

Enter MACBETH.

Macb. I have done the deed:-didst thou not hear a noise?

Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry: Did not you speak?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now.

Macb. As I descended?

Lady. Ay.

Macb. Hark! who lies i' the second chamber?
Lady. Donalbain.

Macb. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his hands.
Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried, Murder!

That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them:

But they did say their prayers, and addressed them
Again to sleep.

Lady. There are two lodged together.

Macb. One cried, God bless us! and, Amen! the

other;

As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands,
Listening their fear. I could not say, Amen,
When they did say, God bless us.

Lady. Consider it not so deeply.

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?

I had most need of blessing, and Amen

Stuck in my throat.

Lady. These deeds must not be thought

After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more!

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