Mine Eyes are made the fooles o'th' other Sences, 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 b.l.o.o.d.y Businesse, which informes Thus to mine Eyes. Now o're the one halfe World Nature seemes dead, and wicked Dreames abuse The Curtain'd sleepe: Witchcraft celebrates Pale Heccats Offrings: and wither'd Murther, Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe, Whose howle's his Watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquins rauishing sides, towards his designe Moues like a Ghost. Thou sowre and firme-set Earth Heare not my steps, which they may walke, for feare Thy very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horror from the time, Which now sutes with it. Whiles I threat, he liues: Words to the heat of deedes too cold breath giues.

A Bell rings.

I goe, and it is done: the Bell inuites me.

Heare it not, Duncan, for it is a Knell, That summons thee to Heauen, or to h.e.l.l.

Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lady.

La. That which hath made the[m] drunk, hath made me bold: What hath quench'd them, hath giuen me fire.

Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that shriek'd, The fatall Bell-man, which giues the stern'st good-night.

He is about it, the Doores are open: And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge With Snores. I haue drugg'd their Possets, That Death and Nature doe contend about them, Whether they liue, or dye.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Who's there? what hoa?

Lady. Alack, I am afraid they haue awak'd, And 'tis not done: th' attempt, and not the deed, Confounds vs: hearke: I lay'd their Daggers ready, He could not misse 'em. Had he not resembled My Father as he slept, I had don't.

My Husband?

Macb. I haue done the deed: Didst thou not heare a noyse?

Lady. I heard the Owle schreame, and the Crickets cry.

Did not you speake?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now Macb. As I descended?

Lady. I Macb. Hearke, who lyes i'th' second Chamber?

Lady. Donalbaine Mac. This is a sorry sight

Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight

Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleepe, And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other: I stood, and heard them: But they did say their Prayers, And addrest them againe to sleepe Lady. There are two lodg'd together

Macb. One cry'd G.o.d blesse vs, and Amen the other, As they had seene me with these Hangmans hands: Listning their feare, I could not say Amen, When they did say G.o.d blesse vs Lady. Consider it not so deepely

Mac. But wherefore could not I p.r.o.nounce Amen?

I had most need of Blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat Lady. These deeds must not be thought After these wayes: so, it will make vs mad Macb. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more: Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe, Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care, The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath, Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course, Chiefe nourisher in Life's Feast Lady. What doe you meane?

Macb. Still it cry'd, Sleepe no more to all the House: Glamis hath murther'd Sleepe, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleepe no more: Macbeth shall sleepe no more Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why worthy Thane, You doe vnbend your n.o.ble strength, to thinke So braine-sickly of things: Goe get some Water, And wash this filthie Witnesse from your Hand.

Why did you bring these Daggers from the place?

They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare The sleepie Groomes with blood Macb. Ile goe no more: I am afraid, to thinke what I haue done: Looke on't againe, I dare not Lady. Infirme of purpose: Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead, Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Childhood, That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed, Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall, For it must seeme their Guilt.

Enter.

Knocke within.

Macb. Whence is that knocking?

How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?

What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.

Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather The mult.i.tudinous Seas incarnardine, Making the Greene one, Red.

Enter Lady.

Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame To weare a Heart so white.

Knocke.

I heare a knocking at the South entry: Retyre we to our Chamber: A little Water cleares vs of this deed.

How easie is it then? your Constancie Hath left you vnattended.

Knocke.

Hearke, more knocking.

Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs, And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost So poorely in your thoughts Macb. To know my deed,

Knocke.

'Twere best not know my selfe.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking: I would thou could'st.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter a Porter. Knocking within.

Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were Porter of h.e.l.l Gate, hee should haue old turning the Key.

Knock.

Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.

Knock.

Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name? Faith here's an Equiuocator, that could sweare in both the Scales against eyther Scale, who committed Treason enough for G.o.ds sake, yet could not equiuocate to Heauen: oh come in, Equiuocator.

Knock.

Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there? 'Faith here's an English Taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French Hose: Come in Taylor, here you may rost your Goose.

Knock.

Knock, Knock. Neuer at quiet: What are you? but this place is too cold for h.e.l.l. Ile Deuill-Porter it no further: I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that goe the Primrose way to th' euerlasting Bonfire.

Knock.

Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter.

Enter Macduff, and Lenox.

Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to Bed, That you doe lye so late?

Port. Faith Sir, we were carowsing till the second c.o.c.k: And Drinke, Sir, is a great prouoker of three things Macd. What three things does Drinke especially prouoke? Port. Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleepe, and Vrine. Lecherie, Sir, it prouokes, and vnprouokes: it prouokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much Drinke may be said to be an Equiuocator with Lecherie: it makes him, and it marres him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it perswades him, and dis-heartens him; makes him stand too, and not stand too: in conclusion, equiuocates him in a sleepe, and giuing him the Lye, leaues him

Macd. I beleeue, Drinke gaue thee the Lye last Night

Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me: but I requited him for his Lye, and (I thinke) being too strong for him, though he tooke vp my Legges sometime, yet I made a Shift to cast him. Enter Macbeth.

Macd. Is thy Master stirring?

Our knocking ha's awak'd him: here he comes Lenox. Good morrow, n.o.ble Sir

Macb. Good morrow both

Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?

Macb. Not yet Macd. He did command me to call timely on him, I haue almost slipt the houre Macb. Ile bring you to him

Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you: But yet 'tis one Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine: This is the Doore Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted seruice.

Exit Macduffe.