Bloody inftructions: which, being taught, return
To plague th' inventor. Even-handed Juftice
Returns th' Ingredients of our poifon'd chalice.
To our own lips. He's here in double truft:
First, as I am his kinfman and his fubject,
Strong both against the deed: Then, as his Hoft,
Who fhould against his murth'rer fhut the door,
Not bear the knife my felf. Befides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties fo meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead, like angels, trumpet-tongu'd against
The deep damnation of his taking off:
And Pity, like a naked new born babe
Striding the blaft, or heav'ns cherubin hors'd (10)
Upon the filent courfers of the air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye;
That tears fhall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the fides of my intent, but only

Vaulting Ambition, which o'er-leaps it self,
And falls on th' other

Enter Lady Macbeth.

How now? what news?

Lady. He's almoft fupp'd: why have you left the chamber?

Mach. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady. Know you not he has ?

Mach. We will proceed no further in this bufiness.
He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all fort of people,

Which would be worn now in their newest glofs,
Not caft afide fo foon.

Lady. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dreft your felf? hath it flept fince?
And wakes it now, to look fo

green and pale

(to) - or Heav'n's Cherubin bors'd upon the fightless Cou❤ riers of the Air.] But the Cherubin is the Courier; fo that he can't be faid to be bors'd upon another Courier. We must read, therefore, Courfers.

Mr. Warburton.

At

At what it did fo freely? from this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afraid
To be the fame in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in defire? wouldst thou have That,
Which thou esteem'ft the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem ?
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' th' Adage.
Macb. Prythee, peace;

I dare do all that may become a man';
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady. What beaft was't then,

That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durft do it, then you were a man;
And (to be more than what you were) you would`
Be fo much more the man. Nor time, nor place
Did then co-here, and yet you would make both :
They've made themfelves; and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given fuck, and know
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me
I would, while it was fmiling in my face,
Have pluckt my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dafht the brains out, had I but fo fworn
As you have done to this.

Macb. If we fhould fail,
Lady. We fail!

But fcrew your courage to the fticking place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is afleep,
(Whereto the rather fhall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him) his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and waffel fo convince,
That memory (the warder of the brain)
Shall be a fume; and the receipt of reafon
A limbeck only; when in fwinish fleep
Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
Th' unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His fpungy officers, who fhalf bear the guilt
Of our great quell?

Mach. Bring forth men-children only !

For

For thy undaunted metal fhould compofe
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have done't?

Lady. Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar,
Upon his death?

Macb. I'm fettled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible Feat.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

Falfe face must hide what the falfe heart doth know.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE, A Hall in Macbeth's Caftle.

Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him.

BANQUO.

OW goes the night, boy?

How

Fle. The moon is down: I have not heard the clock.

Ban. And fhe goes down at twelve.

Fle. I take't, 'tis later, Sir.

Ban. Hold, take my fword. There's husbandry in heav'n,

Their candles are all out.

Take thee that too.

A heavy fummons lies like lead upon me,

And yet I would not fleep: Merciful Pow'rs!
Restrain in me the curfed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose.

Enter Macbeth, and a fervant with a torch.

Give me my fword: who's there?

Macb. A friend.

Ban.

Ban. What, Sir, not yet at reft? the King's a-bed.
He hath to night been in unusual pleasure,
And fent great largess to your officers;

This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind Hostess, and fhut
In measureless content.

Mach. Being unprepar'd,

Our will became the fervant to defect;
Which elfe fhould free have wrought.

Ban. All's well.

I dreamt last night of the three weïrd fifters:
To you they've fhew'd fome truth.

Macb. I think not of them;

up

Yet, when we can intreat an hour to serve,
Would spend it in fome words upon that business;
If you would grant the time.

Ban. At your kind leifure.

Mach. If you fhall cleave to my confent, when 'tis, It fhall make honour for you.

Ban. So I lofe none

In feeking to augment it, but ftill keep

My bofom franchis'd and allegiance clear,
I fhall be counsell'q.

Mach. Good repose the while!

Ban. Thanks, Sir; the like to you.

[Exeunt Banquo and Fleance.

Mach. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She ftrike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. [Exit Serv. Is this a dagger which I fee before me,

The handle tow'rd my hand? come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I fee thee still.
Art thou not, fatal Vision, fenfible
To feeling as to fight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a falfe creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppreffed brain?
I fee thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'ft me the way that I was going;
And fuch an inftrument I was to ufe.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other fenfes,

Or

Or else worth all the rest

I fee thee ftill;

And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood, Which was not fo before.- There's no fuch thing.It is the bloody business, which informs

Thus to mine eyes.
Now e'er one half the world
Nature feems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd fleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings: and wither'd Murther,
(Alarum'd by his fentinel, the wolf,

Whofe howl's his watch) thus with his ftealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing ftrides, tow'rds his defign
Moves like a ghost. Thou found and firm-fet earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very
ftones prate of my where-about;
And take the prefent horrour from the time,
Which now fuits with it.-Whilft I threat, he lives-

A Bell rings.
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.

Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell

That fummons thee to heaven, or to hell.

Enter Lady.

[Exit.

Lady. That, which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:

What hath quench'd them, hath giv'n me fire. Hark! peace!

It was the owl that fhriek'd, the fatal bell-man,
Which gives the ftern'ft good-night-

he is about it

The doors are open; and the furfeited grooms

Do mock their charge with fnores. I've drugg'd their Poffets,

That death and nature do contend about them,

Whether they live or die.

Enter Macbeth?

Macb. Who's there?

what ho!

Lady. Alack! I am afraid, they have awak'd; And 'tis not done; th' attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us --- hark! I laid their daggers ready, VOL. VI.

N

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