Do not muse* at me, my most worthy friends;

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine, fill full:-
:
I drink to the general joy of the whole table.

[Ghost rises.
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.t

Lords.

Our duties, and the pledge.

Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight. Let the earth hide thee.

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M.

Think of this, good peers,

But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow !

[Ghost disappears.

Unreal mockery, hence!-Why, so;-being gone,
I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still.

Lady M. You have displaced the mirth, broke the

With most admired disorder.

Macb.

[good meeting,

Can such things be,

And overcome§ us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange

* Wonder.

i. e. All good wishes to all.

Forbid.

§ Pass over.

Even to the disposition that I owe,*

When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse.

What sights, my lord?

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse

and worse;

Question enrages him: at once, good night:

Stand not upon the order of your going,

Macb. It will have blood: they say, blood will have

blood:

Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies,† and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.

AN OPPRESSED COUNTRY.

Alas, poor country;

Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot

Be called our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air,
Are made, not mark'd: where violent sorrow seems

A modern ecstasy: the dead man's knell

Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.

* Possess.

Magpies.

Over-hasty credulity.

I conjure you, by that which you profess,
(Howe'er you come to know it) answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the yesty* waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;

Though bladed corn be lodged,† and trees blown down;

Though castles topple on their warders' heads;

Though palaces and pyramids do slope

Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
Of nature's germinst tumble all together,

Even till destruction sicken, answer me
To what I ask you.

Frothy,

Laid flat by wind or rain.

+ Seeds.

MACDUFF'S BEHAVIOUR ON THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN.

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound

That ever yet they heard.

Macd.

Humph! I guess at it.

Rosse. Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,

Were on the quarry* of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

Mal.

Merciful Heaven!

What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief, that does not speak,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Macd. My children too?

Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,

To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones? Did you say, all ?-O, hell-kite!—All ?

What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,

At one fell swoop?

Mal. Dispute it like a man.

Macd.

I shall do so;

But I must also feel it like a man:

I cannot but remember such things were,

That were most precious to me.-Did Heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,

* The game after it is killed.

Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them now!
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle Heaven,
Cut short all intermission;* front to front

Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

Mal.

This tune goes manly,

Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;

Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth

Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above

Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long that never finds the day.

A STRICKEN CONSCIENCE.

Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.

Gent. Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her: stand close. Doct. How came she by that light?

Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually 'tis her command.

:

Doct. You see her eyes are open.

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut, Doct. What is it she does now? her hands.

Look, how she rubs

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands; I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

* All pause.