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 known?
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 bot h 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 b e dainty of leave-taking, But shift away: there’s warrant in that theft Which steals itself, when there’s no mercy left. [Exeunt]
Scene 4
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 3
Scene 1
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