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App. Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
His flight was madness: When our actions do not,
Seek to know no more.
Eight Kings appear, and pass over the stage in
Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo;
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls:-And thy hair,
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antique round:
[Music. The Witches dance, and vanish. Macb. Where are they? Gone?-Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!-
Macduff is fled to England.
Len. Ay, my good lord.
Fled to England!
Mach. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Besmeared with blood.
Preventest, by taking away the opportunity.
L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his
His mansion, and his titles, in a place
My dearest coz,
L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
The pit-fall, nor the gin.
Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for
Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
L. Macb. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i'faith,
With wit enough for thee.
Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
Son. What is a traitor?
L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and
Son. And must they all be hanged, that swear and lie?
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
Mal. Let us seck out some desolate shade, and Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
Hold fast the moral sword; and, like good men,
You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
Macd. I am not treacherous.
But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuos nature may recoil,
I have lost my hores. Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts.
Why in that rawness left your wife, and child,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonors,
Whatever I shall think.
Thy title is affeer'd!-Fare thee well, lord:
Be not offended:
I speak not as in an absolute fear of you.
What should he be? Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-wink.
With this, there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming graces,
Macd. O Scotland! Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live.-O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptred, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? Since that the truest issue of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father Was a most sainted king; the queen, that bore thee, Oftner 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!
Mal. Macduff, this noble passion,
I put my self to thy direction, and
Mal. Well; more anon.-Comes the king forth, I pray you?
Doct. 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. Mal.
I thank you, doctor.
[Exit Doctor. Macd. What's the disease he means? Mal. '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 the golden stamp about their necks Put on with holy prayer: and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? Rosse. 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 rent the air, Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstacy; 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. Macd.
Too nice, and yet too true!
What is the newest grief?
How does my wife?
Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech; How
Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings,
What concerns they?
That general cause? or is it a fee-grief,"
Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue forever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.
Macd. Humph! I guess at it. Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd; 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. Mal. 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. Macd. My children too? Rosse.
That could be found. Macd.
My wife kill'd too?
Wife, children, servants, all
And I must be from thence! I have said.
Be comforted: Let's make us medicines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief.
Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones? Did you say, all?-O, hell-kite!-All!
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
Mal. Dispute it like a man.
I cannot but remember such things were,
Cut short all intermission; front to front,
The night is long that never finds the day. [Exeunt.
SCENE I.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. | seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown
Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentle
Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have
Overpowers, subdues. The coin called an angel. 8 Common distress of mind.
upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed: yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumbry agitation, besides her 1 Catch.
2 A grief that has a single owner. The game after it is killed.
walking, and other actual performance, what, at any time, have you heard her say?
Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you should.
Gent. 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.
Doct. How came she by that light?
Cath. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
her continually; 'tis her command. Doct. You see, her eyes are open. Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
Gent. 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 M. Yet here's a spot.
Docl. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! One; Two; Why, then 'tis time to do't:- -Hell is murky!-Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier, and afear'd? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our powers to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. 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.
Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known. Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!
Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body. Doct. Well, well, well,
Gent. 'Pray God, it be, sir.
Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale: I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave. Doct. Even so?
Those he commands, move only in command,
His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
SCENE III-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
And mingle with the English epicures:
Enter a Servant.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!1
Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at
Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds
Good-night, good doctor.
And that which should accompany old age,
Mach. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.-— Come, put mine armor on; give me my staff.Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from me:Come, sir, despatch:--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 hubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence!-Hearest thou of them?
Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Makes us hear something.
Bring it after me.I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exit. SCENE IV.-Country near Dunsinane. A Wood in view.
Enter, with Drum and Colors, MALCOLM, old SI-
It shall be done.
Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before't. Mal.
'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.
Macd. Let our just censures Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership.
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, with Drums and Colors, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers.
Macb. 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 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. What is that noise? [A cry within of women.
Sey. It is the cry of woman, my good lord.
Macb. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.-
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
Well, say, sir. Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move.
Liar, and slave!
Macb. [Striking him. Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: Within this three mile may you see it coming; I say, a moving grove. Mucb. 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 inuch.I pull in resolution; and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth: Fear not till Birnam wood Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out.Do come to Dunsinane;-and now a wood If this which he avouches, does There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, And wish the estate of the world were now undone.Ring the alarum bell:-Blow wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
SCENE VI.-A Plain before the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colors, MALCOLM, old SIWARD, MACDUFF, &c., and their Army, with Boughs.
Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
And show like those you are:-You, worthy uncle,
Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt. Alarums continued.
SCENE VII.-Another Part of the Plain.