began now to fail him, willing though he was to gain the kingship by any means, no matter what, if only he were not himself in danger, "we will go no farther in this business. I have won many honors of late, and those we will enjoy for now. As to this last prophecy of the witch, we will wait."

Then Lady Macbeth rose in all her him in scathing sarcasm.

rage,

denouncing

"Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely?
Such I account thy love.

From this time,

Art thou afraid

To be the same in thine own act and valor

As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

6

Letting I dare not' wait upon 'I would,'

Like the cat i' the adage?"

"Peace, woman, peace!” cried Macbeth, stung by her words. "I dare do all that becomes a man. Who dares do more is none."

A man! when you broke this enterprise to me and dared do that which shall make you king-then you were a man. Neither time nor place did help you then. Now here is Duncan beneath your very roof — time and place have come to you. And now you dare not do the deed. O shame upon you! cow

ard that you are!

No woman loves her little ones

more than I; but I would snatch them from my arms and dash their brains against the ground had I so sworn, as you have done to do this."

"But if we should fail?"

୧୧

Fail! but screw your courage to the sticking place and we'll not fail."

Macbeth, inspired by her daring, and stung by her words, answered her.

"It shall be done. This very night I'll go to Duncan's bed, take from his guards their daggers, and kill the king. Then will the people say it was the guards themselves that did it."

Meeting in the castle yard a little later, Banquo said to Macbeth, "I dreamed of the witches last night. To you they seemed to have told some truth."

"O, the witches! I have not thought of them. Still, sometime when there is leisure, we'll talk together of their words. I doubt not their words will bring you honor as they have me.'

"I shall be glad," answered Banquo simply, "if only I lose none in seeking to get more. We must keep our souls clear whatever comes. And now, good sleep to you."

"Thanks; the like to you." "And now," said Macbeth, turning to his servant, "Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, that she strike upon the bell. Then get thee to bed. I shall not need you."

When, at last, Macbeth was alone, all the horror and dread of his deed came over him. It seemed to him the dagger he was to use stood forth in the air before him. Its very handle seemed towards him, inviting him to murder.

"Is this a dagger which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
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 bloody business, which informs

Thus to mine eyes.

- Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; - witchcraft celebrates

Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
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 whereabout,

And take the present horror from the time,

Which now suits with it. While I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breadth gives.

I

go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell

[A bell rings.

Macb. I have done the deed: Did'st thou not hear a noise?

Lady M.

I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did not you speak?

Lady M. Macb

Donalbain.

This is a sorry sight.

[Looking at his hands.

Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

Macb. 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 lodg'd together.

Macb. 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.

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce " Amen?"

I had most need of blessing, and “Amen”

Stuck in my throat.

Lady M. These deeds must not be thought

After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought I heard a voice 66 cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep,"-the innocent sleep;

Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast-

Lady M.
Macb.

What do you mean?

Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more!