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Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady M. That which hath made them drunk,
hath made me bold: What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:
Hark!-Peace! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd
their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live or die.
Macb [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho !
Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak’d, And 'tis not dove:—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?
Macb. I have done the deed :-Didst thou not
hear a noise ? Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crick.
ets cry Did not you speak? Macb.
When? Lady M.
As I descended ? Lady M. Ay.
Donalbain, Macb. This is a sorry sight.
[Looking on his hands. Lady M. 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 address'd them Again to sleep. Lady M.
There are two lodg'd 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 M.
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 M. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. Mucb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no
more! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep ; Sleep, that knits up the rudell'd sleavet of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast ; Lady M.
What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the
house: Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Caw.
dor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more! Lady M. Who was it that thus cried ? Why, wor.
+ Sleave is unwrought silk.
You do uubend your noble strength, to think
I'll go no more:
Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers : The sleeping, and the dead, Are but as pictures : 'tis the eye of childhood, That fears a painted devil. If lie do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt,
[Erit. Knocling within. Macb.
Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine
eyes ! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnardine*, Making the green-one red.
Re-enter Lady Macbeth. Lady M. My hands are of your colour; but I
shame To wear a heart so white. [Knock.] I hear a knock
more knocking :
• To incarnardine is to stain of a flesh-colour.
Macb. To know my deed,-'twere best not know myself.
[Knock. Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Ay, 'would thou could'st!
Enter a Porter, [Knocking within. Porter, Here's a knocking, indeed ! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock: Who's there, i'the name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer, that banged himself on the expectation of plenty: Come in time; have napkinst enough about you; here you'll sweat for't. (Knocking.] Kuock, kpock: Who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equi. vocate to Heaven: 0, come in, equivocator. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock : Who's there ? 'Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: Come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. [Knocking.] Knock, knock: Ne ver at quiet! What are you ?-But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. (Knocking.] Avon, anon; I pray you, remember the porter.
(Opens the gate.
Enter Macduff and Lenox.
Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to
bed, That you do lie so late?
Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock*: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
Macd. What three things dues drink especially právoke?
Port. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes : it pro. vokes the desire, but it takes away the performance: Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivo. cator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes bim stand 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 ?
Len. Good-morrow, noble sir!
Macd. He did command me to call timely on him; I have almost slipp'd the hour. Macb.
I'll bring you to him.