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Shall fleep no more; Macbeth fhall fleep no more!
Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why, worthy Thane,
You do unbend your noble ftrength, to think
So brain-fickly of things; go, get fome water,
And wash this filthy witnefs from your hand.
Why did you bring thefe daggers from the place?
They muft lye there. Go, carry them, and fmear
The fleepy grooms with blood.

Macb. I'll go no more;

I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers; the fleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.

Knocks within.

Mach. Whence is that knocking!

[Exit.

[Starting

eyes.

How is it with me, when every noife appals me?
What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? no, this my hand will rather
Thy multitudinous fea incarnardine,

Making the green one red

Enter Lady.

[Knock.

Lady. My hands are of your colour; but I fhame
To wear a heart so white; I hear a knocking
At the fouth entry. Retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed.

How eafie is it then? your conftancy

Hath left you unattended

hark, more knocking!

Get on your night-gown, left occafion call us,
And fhew us to be Watchers; be not loft
So poorly in your thoughts.

Macb. To know my deed, 'twere best not know
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[Knock.

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Wake, Duncan, with this knocking: 'would, thou [Exeunt.

couldft!

Enter a Porter.

[Knocking within] Port. Here's a knocking, indeed : if a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knock] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there, i' th' name of Belzebub? here's a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of plenty : come in time, have napkins enough about you, here you'll sweat for't. [Knock] Knock, knock. Who's there i' th' other devil's name? faith, here's an equivocator, that could fwear in both the fcales against either fcale, who committed treafon enough for God's fake, yet could not equivocate to heav'n: oh, come in, equivocator. [Knock] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? faith, here's an English taylor come hither for ftealing out of a French hofe come in, taylor, here you may roaft your goofe. [Knock] Knock, knock. Never 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 fome of all profeffions, that go the primrose way to th' everlafting bonfire. [Knock] Anon, anon, I pray you, remember the porter.

Enter Macduff, and Lenox.

Macd. Was it fo late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie fo late?

Port. Faith, Sir, we were caroufing 'till the fecond cock :

And Drink, Sir, is a great provoker of three things. Macd. What three things doth Drink efpecially provoke?

Port. Marry, Sir, nofe-painting, fleep, and urine. Lechery, Sir, it provokes, and unprovokes ; it provokes the defire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much Drink may be faid to be an equivocator with lechery; it makes him, and it mars him; it fets him on, and it takes him off; it perfwades him, and disheartens him; makes him ftand to, and not stand to; in conclu

fion, equivocates him into a fleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

Macd. I believe, Drink gave thee the lie last night. Port. That it did, Sir, i' th' 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 fome time, yet I made a fhift to caft him.

Macd. Is thy mafter stirring?

Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Len. Good morrow, noble Sir.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Good morrow, Both.

Macd. Is the King ftirring, worthy Thane ?

Macb. Not yet.

Macd. He did command me to call timely on him; I've almoft flipt the hour.

Mach. I'll bring you to him.

Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you:

But yet, 'tis one.

Macb. The labour, we delight in, phyficks pain; This is the door.

Macd. I'll make fo bold to call, for 'tis my fervice.

Len. Goes the King hence to day?

Mach. He did appoint fo.

limited

[Exit Macduff.

Len. The night has been unruly; where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down: And, as they fay, Lamentings heard i' th' air, strange screams of death, And prophefying with accents terrible

Of dire combuftion, and confus'd events,
New hatch'd to th' woeful time:

The obfcure bird clamour'd the live-long night.
Some fay, the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.
Macb. 'Twas a rough night.

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.

Enter Macduff.

Macd. O horror! horror! horror!

Nor tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name thee

Macb. and Len. What's the matter?

Macd. Confufion now hath made his mafter-piece; Moft facrilegious murther hath broke ope

The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence

The life o' th' building.

Macb. What is't you fay? the life?

Len. Mean you his Majefty?

Macd. Approach the chamber, and deftroy your fight Do not bid me speak;

With a new Gorgon.

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See, and then fpeak your felves: awake! awake!

Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm ! awake!

Ring the alarum-bell

[Exeunt Macbeth and Len.' murther! and treafon !

Shake off this downy fleep,

up, up, and fee

And look on death it felf.

death's counterfeit,

The great Doom's image -Malcolm! Banquo! As from your graves rife up, and walk like fprights, (11) To countenance this horror.

Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady. What's the business,

That fuch an hideous trumpet calls to parley

The fleepers of the house? fpeak.

Macd. Gentle lady,

"Tis not for you to hear what I can speak.

The repetition in a woman's ear

Would murther as it fell. O Banquo, Banque !

Enter

(11) To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.] I have ventur'd to throw out these last Words, as no part of the Text. Macduff had faid at the Beginning of his Speech, Ring out th' Alarum Bell; But if the Bell had rung out immediately, not a Word of what he fays could have been diAtinguish'd. Ring the Bell, I fay, was a Marginal Direction in the Prompter's Book for him to order the Bell to be rung, the Minute that Macduff ceases speaking.

In proof of this, we may obferve, that the Hemistich end

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What, in our house?

-

Ban. Too cruel, any where.

Macduff, I pr'y thee, contradict thy felf,
And fay, it is not fo.

Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Roffe.

Macb. Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a bleffed time: for, from this inftant, There's nothing ferious 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.

Don. What is amifs?

Macb. You are, and do not know't:

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is ftopt; the very fource of it is stopt.
Mach. Your royal father's murther'd.
Mal. Oh, by whom?

Len. Thofe of his chamber, as it feem'd, had don't ;
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood,
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows; they ftar'd and were distracted;
No man's life was to be trusted with them.

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

That I did kill them.

Macd. Wherefore did you fo?

Macb. Who can be wife, amaz'd, temp'rate and fu rious,

Loyal and neutral in a moment? no man.

ing Macduff 's fpeech, and That beginning Lady Macbeth's, make up a compleat Verfe. Now if Ring the Bell had been a part of the Text, can we imagine the Poet would have begun the Lady's speech with a broken Line?

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