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COURT WITHIN THE CASTLE.
Enter Banquo, and Fleance; and a Servant, with
a torch before them. Ban. How goes the night, boy? Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the
clock. Ban. And she goes down at twelve. Fle.
I take't, 'tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword :—There's husbandry
in heaven, Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep: Merciful powers! Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature Gives way to in repose!--Give me my sword;
Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch.
Mac. A friend.
Our will became the servant to defect;
I think not of them: Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, Would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time. Ban,
your kind'st leisure, Mac. If
you shall cleave to my consent,—when
So I lose none,
the while! Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you !
[Exit Banquo. Mac. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is
ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[Exit Servant. Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his de
sign 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. Whiles 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 knel! That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. [Exit.
SC E N E II.
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.
Mac. [Within.] Who's there?- what, ho!
Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, 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. Mac. 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? Mac.
As I descended? Lady M. Ay.
(Looking on his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. Mac. 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 lody'd together. Mac. 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. Mac. But wherefore could not I pronounce,
These deeds must not be thought
more! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravelld sleave of care,