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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2264 ***
+
+
+Executive Director's Notes:
+
+In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
+the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
+been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
+are presented herein:
+
+  Barnardo. Who's there?
+  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
+your selfe
+
+   Bar. Long liue the King
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
+or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
+original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
+to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
+that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
+above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
+Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .
+
+The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
+time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
+place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
+as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
+more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.
+
+You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
+have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
+extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
+very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
+assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
+in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
+purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
+. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
+that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
+variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
+for signing his name with several different spellings.
+
+So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
+made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
+that are "not" errors. . . .
+
+So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,
+here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.
+
+Michael S. Hart
+Project Gutenberg
+Executive Director
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Scanner's Notes:
+
+What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of
+Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in
+ASCII to the printed text.
+
+The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
+conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling,
+punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed
+text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
+together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of
+the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
+spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
+abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within
+brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you
+can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer
+Shakespeare.
+
+Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are
+textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So
+there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above)
+between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the
+printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of
+copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type
+and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown
+away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the
+way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30
+different First Folio editions' best pages.
+
+David Reed
+
+=====================================================================
+
+
+
+
+The Tragedie of Macbeth
+
+
+Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
+
+Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.
+
+  1. When shall we three meet againe?
+In Thunder, Lightning, or in Raine?
+  2. When the Hurley-burley's done,
+When the Battaile's lost, and wonne
+
+   3. That will be ere the set of Sunne
+
+   1. Where the place?
+  2. Vpon the Heath
+
+   3. There to meet with Macbeth
+
+   1. I come, Gray-Malkin
+
+   All. Padock calls anon: faire is foule, and foule is faire,
+Houer through the fogge and filthie ayre.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Secunda.
+
+Alarum within. Enter King, Malcome, Donalbaine, Lenox, with
+attendants, meeting a bleeding Captaine.
+
+  King. What bloody man is that? he can report,
+As seemeth by his plight, of the Reuolt
+The newest state
+
+   Mal. This is the Serieant,
+Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought
+'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend;
+Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle,
+As thou didst leaue it
+
+   Cap. Doubtfull it stood,
+As two spent Swimmers, that doe cling together,
+And choake their Art: The mercilesse Macdonwald
+(Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that
+The multiplying Villanies of Nature
+Doe swarme vpon him) from the Westerne Isles
+Of Kernes and Gallowgrosses is supply'd,
+And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling,
+Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake:
+For braue Macbeth (well hee deserues that Name)
+Disdayning Fortune, with his brandisht Steele,
+Which smoak'd with bloody execution
+(Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his passage,
+Till hee fac'd the Slaue:
+Which neu'r shooke hands, nor bad farwell to him,
+Till he vnseam'd him from the Naue toth' Chops,
+And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements
+
+   King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman
+
+   Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection,
+Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders:
+So from that Spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
+Discomfort swells: Marke King of Scotland, marke,
+No sooner Iustice had, with Valour arm'd,
+Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heeles,
+But the Norweyan Lord, surueying vantage,
+With furbusht Armes, and new supplyes of men,
+Began a fresh assault
+
+   King. Dismay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and
+Banquoh?
+  Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles;
+Or the Hare, the Lyon:
+If I say sooth, I must report they were
+As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks,
+So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe:
+Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds,
+Or memorize another Golgotha,
+I cannot tell: but I am faint,
+My Gashes cry for helpe
+
+   King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds,
+They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons.
+Enter Rosse and Angus.
+
+Who comes here?
+  Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse
+
+   Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes?
+So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange
+
+   Rosse. God saue the King
+
+   King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
+  Rosse. From Fiffe, great King,
+Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie,
+And fanne our people cold.
+Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers,
+Assisted by that most disloyall Traytor,
+The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict,
+Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe,
+Confronted him with selfe-comparisons,
+Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme,
+Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude,
+The Victorie fell on vs
+
+   King. Great happinesse
+
+   Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King,
+Craues composition:
+Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men,
+Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes ynch,
+Ten thousand Dollars, to our generall vse
+
+   King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue
+Our Bosome interest: Goe pronounce his present death,
+And with his former Title greet Macbeth
+
+   Rosse. Ile see it done
+
+   King. What he hath lost, Noble Macbeth hath wonne.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Tertia.
+
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
+
+  1. Where hast thou beene, Sister?
+  2. Killing Swine
+
+   3. Sister, where thou?
+  1. A Saylors Wife had Chestnuts in her Lappe,
+And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht:
+Giue me, quoth I.
+Aroynt thee, Witch, the rumpe-fed Ronyon cryes.
+Her Husband's to Aleppo gone, Master o'th' Tiger:
+But in a Syue Ile thither sayle,
+And like a Rat without a tayle,
+Ile doe, Ile doe, and Ile doe
+
+   2. Ile giue thee a Winde
+
+   1. Th'art kinde
+
+   3. And I another
+
+   1. I my selfe haue all the other,
+And the very Ports they blow,
+All the Quarters that they know,
+I'th' Ship-mans Card.
+Ile dreyne him drie as Hay:
+Sleepe shall neyther Night nor Day
+Hang vpon his Pent-house Lid:
+He shall liue a man forbid:
+Wearie Seu'nights, nine times nine,
+Shall he dwindle, peake, and pine:
+Though his Barke cannot be lost,
+Yet it shall be Tempest-tost.
+Looke what I haue
+
+   2. Shew me, shew me
+
+   1. Here I haue a Pilots Thumbe,
+Wrackt, as homeward he did come.
+
+Drum within.
+
+  3. A Drumme, a Drumme:
+Macbeth doth come
+
+   All. The weyward Sisters, hand in hand,
+Posters of the Sea and Land,
+Thus doe goe, about, about,
+Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
+And thrice againe, to make vp nine.
+Peace, the Charme's wound vp.
+Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
+
+  Macb. So foule and faire a day I haue not seene
+
+   Banquo. How farre is't call'd to Soris? What are these,
+So wither'd, and so wilde in their attyre,
+That looke not like th' Inhabitants o'th' Earth,
+And yet are on't? Liue you, or are you aught
+That man may question? you seeme to vnderstand me,
+By each at once her choppie finger laying
+Vpon her skinnie Lips: you should be Women,
+And yet your Beards forbid me to interprete
+That you are so
+
+   Mac. Speake if you can: what are you?
+  1. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Glamis
+
+   2. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Cawdor
+
+   3. All haile Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter
+
+   Banq. Good Sir, why doe you start, and seeme to feare
+Things that doe sound so faire? i'th' name of truth
+Are ye fantasticall, or that indeed
+Which outwardly ye shew? My Noble Partner
+You greet with present Grace, and great prediction
+Of Noble hauing, and of Royall hope,
+That he seemes wrapt withall: to me you speake not.
+If you can looke into the Seedes of Time,
+And say, which Graine will grow, and which will not,
+Speake then to me, who neyther begge, nor feare
+Your fauors, nor your hate
+
+   1. Hayle
+
+   2. Hayle
+
+   3. Hayle
+
+   1. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater
+
+   2. Not so happy, yet much happyer
+
+   3. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none:
+So all haile Macbeth, and Banquo
+
+   1. Banquo, and Macbeth, all haile
+
+   Macb. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more:
+By Sinells death, I know I am Thane of Glamis,
+But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor liues
+A prosperous Gentleman: And to be King,
+Stands not within the prospect of beleefe,
+No more then to be Cawdor. Say from whence
+You owe this strange Intelligence, or why
+Vpon this blasted Heath you stop our way
+With such Prophetique greeting?
+Speake, I charge you.
+
+Witches vanish.
+
+  Banq. The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water ha's,
+And these are of them: whither are they vanish'd?
+  Macb. Into the Ayre: and what seem'd corporall,
+Melted, as breath into the Winde.
+Would they had stay'd
+
+   Banq. Were such things here, as we doe speake about?
+Or haue we eaten on the insane Root,
+That takes the Reason Prisoner?
+  Macb. Your Children shall be Kings
+
+   Banq. You shall be King
+
+   Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
+  Banq. Toth' selfe-same tune and words: who's here?
+Enter Rosse and Angus.
+
+  Rosse. The King hath happily receiu'd, Macbeth,
+The newes of thy successe: and when he reades
+Thy personall Venture in the Rebels sight,
+His Wonders and his Prayses doe contend,
+Which should be thine, or his: silenc'd with that,
+In viewing o're the rest o'th' selfe-same day,
+He findes thee in the stout Norweyan Rankes,
+Nothing afeard of what thy selfe didst make
+Strange Images of death, as thick as Tale
+Can post with post, and euery one did beare
+Thy prayses in his Kingdomes great defence,
+And powr'd them downe before him
+
+   Ang. Wee are sent,
+To giue thee from our Royall Master thanks,
+Onely to harrold thee into his sight,
+Not pay thee
+
+   Rosse. And for an earnest of a greater Honor,
+He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
+In which addition, haile most worthy Thane,
+For it is thine
+
+   Banq. What, can the Deuill speake true?
+  Macb. The Thane of Cawdor liues:
+Why doe you dresse me in borrowed Robes?
+  Ang. Who was the Thane, liues yet,
+But vnder heauie Iudgement beares that Life,
+Which he deserues to loose.
+Whether he was combin'd with those of Norway,
+Or did lyne the Rebell with hidden helpe,
+And vantage; or that with both he labour'd
+In his Countreyes wracke, I know not:
+But Treasons Capitall, confess'd, and prou'd,
+Haue ouerthrowne him
+
+   Macb. Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor:
+The greatest is behinde. Thankes for your paines.
+Doe you not hope your Children shall be Kings,
+When those that gaue the Thane of Cawdor to me,
+Promis'd no lesse to them
+
+   Banq. That trusted home,
+Might yet enkindle you vnto the Crowne,
+Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
+And oftentimes, to winne vs to our harme,
+The Instruments of Darknesse tell vs Truths,
+Winne vs with honest Trifles, to betray's
+In deepest consequence.
+Cousins, a word, I pray you
+
+   Macb. Two Truths are told,
+As happy Prologues to the swelling Act
+Of the Imperiall Theame. I thanke you Gentlemen:
+This supernaturall solliciting
+Cannot be ill; cannot be good.
+If ill? why hath it giuen me earnest of successe,
+Commencing in a Truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.
+If good? why doe I yeeld to that suggestion,
+Whose horrid Image doth vnfixe my Heire,
+And make my seated Heart knock at my Ribbes,
+Against the vse of Nature? Present Feares
+Are lesse then horrible Imaginings:
+My Thought, whose Murther yet is but fantasticall,
+Shakes so my single state of Man,
+That Function is smother'd in surmise,
+And nothing is, but what is not
+
+   Banq. Looke how our Partner's rapt
+
+   Macb. If Chance will haue me King,
+Why Chance may Crowne me,
+Without my stirre
+
+   Banq. New Honors come vpon him
+Like our strange Garments, cleaue not to their mould,
+But with the aid of vse
+
+   Macb. Come what come may,
+Time, and the Houre, runs through the roughest Day
+
+   Banq. Worthy Macbeth, wee stay vpon your leysure
+
+   Macb. Giue me your fauour:
+My dull Braine was wrought with things forgotten.
+Kinde Gentlemen, your paines are registred,
+Where euery day I turne the Leafe,
+To reade them.
+Let vs toward the King: thinke vpon
+What hath chanc'd: and at more time,
+The Interim hauing weigh'd it, let vs speake
+Our free Hearts each to other
+
+   Banq. Very gladly
+
+   Macb. Till then enough:
+Come friends.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Quarta.
+
+Flourish. Enter King, Lenox, Malcolme, Donalbaine, and
+Attendants.
+
+  King. Is execution done on Cawdor?
+Or not those in Commission yet return'd?
+  Mal. My Liege, they are not yet come back.
+But I haue spoke with one that saw him die:
+Who did report, that very frankly hee
+Confess'd his Treasons, implor'd your Highnesse Pardon,
+And set forth a deepe Repentance:
+Nothing in his Life became him,
+Like the leauing it. Hee dy'de,
+As one that had beene studied in his death,
+To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
+As 'twere a carelesse Trifle
+
+   King. There's no Art,
+To finde the Mindes construction in the Face.
+He was a Gentleman, on whom I built
+An absolute Trust.
+Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
+
+O worthyest Cousin,
+The sinne of my Ingratitude euen now
+Was heauie on me. Thou art so farre before,
+That swiftest Wing of Recompence is slow,
+To ouertake thee. Would thou hadst lesse deseru'd,
+That the proportion both of thanks, and payment,
+Might haue beene mine: onely I haue left to say,
+More is thy due, then more then all can pay
+
+   Macb. The seruice, and the loyaltie I owe,
+In doing it, payes it selfe.
+Your Highnesse part, is to receiue our Duties:
+And our Duties are to your Throne, and State,
+Children, and Seruants; which doe but what they should,
+By doing euery thing safe toward your Loue
+And Honor
+
+   King. Welcome hither:
+I haue begun to plant thee, and will labour
+To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
+That hast no lesse deseru'd, nor must be knowne
+No lesse to haue done so: Let me enfold thee,
+And hold thee to my Heart
+
+   Banq. There if I grow,
+The Haruest is your owne
+
+   King. My plenteous Ioyes,
+Wanton in fulnesse, seeke to hide themselues
+In drops of sorrow. Sonnes, Kinsmen, Thanes,
+And you whose places are the nearest, know,
+We will establish our Estate vpon
+Our eldest, Malcolme, whom we name hereafter,
+The Prince of Cumberland: which Honor must
+Not vnaccompanied, inuest him onely,
+But signes of Noblenesse, like Starres, shall shine
+On all deseruers. From hence to Envernes,
+And binde vs further to you
+
+   Macb. The Rest is Labor, which is not vs'd for you:
+Ile be my selfe the Herbenger, and make ioyfull
+The hearing of my Wife, with your approach:
+So humbly take my leaue
+
+   King. My worthy Cawdor
+
+   Macb. The Prince of Cumberland: that is a step,
+On which I must fall downe, or else o're-leape,
+For in my way it lyes. Starres hide your fires,
+Let not Light see my black and deepe desires:
+The Eye winke at the Hand: yet let that bee,
+Which the Eye feares, when it is done to see.
+Enter.
+
+  King. True worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant,
+And in his commendations, I am fed:
+It is a Banquet to me. Let's after him,
+Whose care is gone before, to bid vs welcome:
+It is a peerelesse Kinsman.
+
+Flourish. Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Quinta.
+
+Enter Macbeths Wife alone with a Letter.
+
+  Lady. They met me in the day of successe: and I haue
+learn'd by the perfect'st report, they haue more in them, then
+mortall knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them
+further, they made themselues Ayre, into which they vanish'd.
+Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came Missiues from
+the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title
+before, these weyward Sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to
+the comming on of time, with haile King that shalt be. This
+haue I thought good to deliuer thee (my dearest Partner of
+Greatnesse) that thou might'st not loose the dues of reioycing
+by being ignorant of what Greatnesse is promis'd thee. Lay
+it to thy heart and farewell.
+Glamys thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
+What thou art promis'd: yet doe I feare thy Nature,
+It is too full o'th' Milke of humane kindnesse,
+To catch the neerest way. Thou would'st be great,
+Art not without Ambition, but without
+The illnesse should attend it. What thou would'st highly,
+That would'st thou holily: would'st not play false,
+And yet would'st wrongly winne.
+Thould'st haue, great Glamys, that which cryes,
+Thus thou must doe, if thou haue it;
+And that which rather thou do'st feare to doe,
+Then wishest should be vndone. High thee hither,
+That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare,
+And chastise with the valour of my Tongue
+All that impeides thee from the Golden Round,
+Which Fate and Metaphysicall ayde doth seeme
+To haue thee crown'd withall.
+Enter Messenger.
+
+What is your tidings?
+  Mess. The King comes here to Night
+
+   Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it.
+Is not thy Master with him? who, wer't so,
+Would haue inform'd for preparation
+
+   Mess. So please you, it is true: our Thane is comming:
+One of my fellowes had the speed of him;
+Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
+Then would make vp his Message
+
+   Lady. Giue him tending,
+He brings great newes,
+
+Exit Messenger.
+
+The Rauen himselfe is hoarse,
+That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan
+Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits,
+That tend on mortall thoughts, vnsex me here,
+And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full
+Of direst Crueltie: make thick my blood,
+Stop vp th' accesse, and passage to Remorse,
+That no compunctious visitings of Nature
+Shake my fell purpose, nor keepe peace betweene
+Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Brests,
+And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Ministers,
+Where-euer, in your sightlesse substances,
+You wait on Natures Mischiefe. Come thick Night,
+And pall thee in the dunnest smoake of Hell,
+
+That my keene Knife see not the Wound it makes,
+Nor Heauen peepe through the Blanket of the darke,
+To cry, hold, hold.
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor,
+Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter,
+Thy Letters haue transported me beyond
+This ignorant present, and I feele now
+The future in the instant
+
+   Macb. My dearest Loue,
+Duncan comes here to Night
+
+   Lady. And when goes hence?
+  Macb. To morrow, as he purposes
+
+   Lady. O neuer,
+Shall Sunne that Morrow see.
+Your Face, my Thane, is as a Booke, where men
+May reade strange matters, to beguile the time.
+Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye,
+Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th' innocent flower,
+But be the Serpent vnder't. He that's comming,
+Must be prouided for: and you shall put
+This Nights great Businesse into my dispatch,
+Which shall to all our Nights, and Dayes to come,
+Giue solely soueraigne sway, and Masterdome
+
+   Macb. We will speake further,
+  Lady. Onely looke vp cleare:
+To alter fauor, euer is to feare:
+Leaue all the rest to me.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Sexta.
+
+Hoboyes, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolme, Donalbaine,
+Banquo, Lenox,
+Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.
+
+  King. This Castle hath a pleasant seat,
+The ayre nimbly and sweetly recommends it selfe
+Vnto our gentle sences
+
+   Banq. This Guest of Summer,
+The Temple-haunting Barlet does approue,
+By his loued Mansonry, that the Heauens breath
+Smells wooingly here: no Iutty frieze,
+Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird
+Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle,
+Where they must breed, and haunt: I haue obseru'd
+The ayre is delicate.
+Enter Lady.
+
+  King. See, see our honor'd Hostesse:
+The Loue that followes vs, sometime is our trouble,
+Which still we thanke as Loue. Herein I teach you,
+How you shall bid God-eyld vs for your paines,
+And thanke vs for your trouble
+
+   Lady. All our seruice,
+In euery point twice done, and then done double,
+Were poore, and single Businesse, to contend
+Against those Honors deepe, and broad,
+Wherewith your Maiestie loades our House:
+For those of old, and the late Dignities,
+Heap'd vp to them, we rest your Ermites
+
+   King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
+We courst him at the heeles, and had a purpose
+To be his Purueyor: But he rides well,
+And his great Loue (sharpe as his Spurre) hath holp him
+To his home before vs: Faire and Noble Hostesse
+We are your guest to night
+
+   La. Your Seruants euer,
+Haue theirs, themselues, and what is theirs in compt,
+To make their Audit at your Highnesse pleasure,
+Still to returne your owne
+
+   King. Giue me your hand:
+Conduct me to mine Host we loue him highly,
+And shall continue, our Graces towards him.
+By your leaue Hostesse.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Scena Septima.
+
+Hoboyes. Torches. Enter a Sewer, and diuers Seruants with Dishes
+and
+Seruice ouer the Stage. Then enter Macbeth
+
+   Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twer well,
+It were done quickly: If th' Assassination
+Could trammell vp the Consequence, and catch
+With his surcease, Successe: that but this blow
+Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere,
+But heere, vpon this Banke and Schoole of time,
+Wee'ld iumpe the life to come. But in these Cases,
+We still haue iudgement heere, that we but teach
+Bloody Instructions, which being taught, returne
+To plague th' Inuenter, this euen-handed Iustice
+Commends th' Ingredience of our poyson'd Challice
+To our owne lips. Hee's heere in double trust;
+First, as I am his Kinsman, and his Subiect,
+Strong both against the Deed: Then, as his Host,
+Who should against his Murtherer shut the doore,
+Not beare the knife my selfe. Besides, this Duncane
+Hath borne his Faculties so meeke; hath bin
+So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues
+Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd against
+The deepe damnation of his taking off:
+And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe,
+Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd
+Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre,
+Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye,
+That teares shall drowne the winde. I haue no Spurre
+To pricke the sides of my intent, but onely
+Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it selfe,
+And falles on th' other.
+Enter Lady.
+
+How now? What Newes?
+  La. He has almost supt: why haue you left the chamber?
+  Mac. Hath he ask'd for me?
+  La. Know you not, he ha's?
+  Mac. We will proceed no further in this Businesse:
+He hath Honour'd me of late, and I haue bought
+Golden Opinions from all sorts of people,
+Which would be worne now in their newest glosse,
+Not cast aside so soone
+
+   La. Was the hope drunke,
+Wherein you drest your selfe? Hath it slept since?
+And wakes it now to looke so greene, and pale,
+At what it did so freely? From this time,
+Such I account thy loue. Art thou affear'd
+To be the same in thine owne Act, and Valour,
+As thou art in desire? Would'st thou haue that
+Which thou esteem'st the Ornament of Life,
+And liue a Coward in thine owne Esteeme?
+Letting I dare not, wait vpon I would,
+Like the poore Cat i'th' Addage
+
+   Macb. Prythee peace:
+I dare do all that may become a man,
+Who dares do more, is none
+
+   La. What Beast was't then
+That made you breake this enterprize to me?
+When you durst do it, then you were a man:
+And to be more then what you were, you would
+Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place
+Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
+They haue made themselues, and that their fitnesse now
+Do's vnmake you. I haue giuen Sucke, and know
+How tender 'tis to loue the Babe that milkes me,
+I would, while it was smyling in my Face,
+Haue pluckt my Nipple from his Bonelesse Gummes,
+And dasht the Braines out, had I so sworne
+As you haue done to this
+
+   Macb. If we should faile?
+  Lady. We faile?
+But screw your courage to the sticking place,
+And wee'le not fayle: when Duncan is asleepe,
+(Whereto the rather shall his dayes hard Iourney
+Soundly inuite him) his two Chamberlaines
+Will I with Wine, and Wassell, so conuince,
+That Memorie, the Warder of the Braine,
+Shall be a Fume, and the Receit of Reason
+A Lymbeck onely: when in Swinish sleepe,
+Their drenched Natures lyes as in a Death,
+What cannot you and I performe vpon
+Th' vnguarded Duncan? What not put vpon
+His spungie Officers? who shall beare the guilt
+Of our great quell
+
+   Macb. Bring forth Men-Children onely:
+For thy vndaunted Mettle should compose
+Nothing but Males. Will it not be receiu'd,
+When we haue mark'd with blood those sleepie two
+Of his owne Chamber, and vs'd their very Daggers,
+That they haue don't?
+  Lady. Who dares receiue it other,
+As we shall make our Griefes and Clamor rore,
+Vpon his Death?
+  Macb. I am settled, and bend vp
+Each corporall Agent to this terrible Feat.
+Away, and mock the time with fairest show,
+False Face must hide what the false Heart doth know.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
+
+Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch before him.
+
+  Banq. How goes the Night, Boy?
+  Fleance. The Moone is downe: I haue not heard the
+Clock
+
+   Banq. And she goes downe at Twelue
+
+   Fleance. I take't, 'tis later, Sir
+
+   Banq. Hold, take my Sword:
+There's Husbandry in Heauen,
+Their Candles are all out: take thee that too.
+A heauie Summons lyes like Lead vpon me,
+And yet I would not sleepe:
+Mercifull Powers, restraine in me the cursed thoughts
+That Nature giues way to in repose.
+Enter Macbeth, and a Seruant with a Torch.
+
+Giue me my Sword: who's there?
+  Macb. A Friend
+
+   Banq. What Sir, not yet at rest? the King's a bed.
+He hath beene in vnusuall Pleasure,
+And sent forth great Largesse to your Offices.
+This Diamond he greetes your Wife withall,
+By the name of most kind Hostesse,
+And shut vp in measurelesse content
+
+   Mac. Being vnprepar'd,
+Our will became the seruant to defect,
+Which else should free haue wrought
+
+   Banq. All's well.
+I dreamt last Night of the three weyward Sisters:
+To you they haue shew'd some truth
+
+   Macb. I thinke not of them:
+Yet when we can entreat an houre to serue,
+We would spend it in some words vpon that Businesse,
+If you would graunt the time
+
+   Banq. At your kind'st leysure
+
+   Macb. If you shall cleaue to my consent,
+When 'tis, it shall make Honor for you
+
+   Banq. So I lose none,
+In seeking to augment it, but still keepe
+My Bosome franchis'd, and Allegeance cleare,
+I shall be counsail'd
+
+   Macb. Good repose the while
+
+   Banq. Thankes Sir: the like to you.
+
+Exit Banquo.
+
+  Macb. Goe bid thy Mistresse, when my drinke is ready,
+She strike vpon the Bell. Get thee to bed.
+Enter.
+
+Is this a Dagger, which I see before me,
+The Handle toward my Hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
+I haue thee not, and yet I see thee still.
+Art thou not fatall Vision, sensible
+To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
+A Dagger of the Minde, a false Creation,
+Proceeding from the heat-oppressed Braine?
+I see thee yet, in forme as palpable,
+As this which now I draw.
+Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going,
+And such an Instrument I was to vse.
+Mine Eyes are made the fooles o'th' other Sences,
+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 Businesse, which informes
+Thus to mine Eyes. Now o're the one halfe World
+Nature seemes dead, and wicked Dreames abuse
+The Curtain'd sleepe: Witchcraft celebrates
+Pale Heccats Offrings: and wither'd Murther,
+Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe,
+Whose howle's his Watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
+With Tarquins rauishing sides, towards his designe
+Moues like a Ghost. Thou sowre and firme-set Earth
+Heare not my steps, which they may walke, for feare
+Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
+And take the present horror from the time,
+Which now sutes with it. Whiles I threat, he liues:
+Words to the heat of deedes too cold breath giues.
+
+A Bell rings.
+
+I goe, and it is done: the Bell inuites me.
+Heare it not, Duncan, for it is a Knell,
+That summons thee to Heauen, or to Hell.
+Enter.
+
+
+Scena Secunda.
+
+Enter Lady.
+
+  La. That which hath made the[m] drunk, hath made me bold:
+What hath quench'd them, hath giuen me fire.
+Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that shriek'd,
+The fatall Bell-man, which giues the stern'st good-night.
+He is about it, the Doores are open:
+And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge
+With Snores. I haue drugg'd their Possets,
+That Death and Nature doe contend about them,
+Whether they liue, or dye.
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+  Macb. Who's there? what hoa?
+  Lady. Alack, I am afraid they haue awak'd,
+And 'tis not done: th' attempt, and not the deed,
+Confounds vs: hearke: I lay'd their Daggers ready,
+He could not misse 'em. Had he not resembled
+My Father as he slept, I had don't.
+My Husband?
+  Macb. I haue done the deed:
+Didst thou not heare a noyse?
+  Lady. I heard the Owle schreame, and the Crickets cry.
+Did not you speake?
+  Macb. When?
+  Lady. Now
+
+   Macb. As I descended?
+  Lady. I
+
+   Macb. Hearke, who lyes i'th' second Chamber?
+  Lady. Donalbaine
+
+   Mac. This is a sorry sight
+
+   Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight
+
+   Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleepe,
+And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other:
+I stood, and heard them: But they did say their Prayers,
+And addrest them againe to sleepe
+
+   Lady. There are two lodg'd together
+
+   Macb. One cry'd God blesse vs, and Amen the other,
+As they had seene me with these Hangmans hands:
+Listning their feare, I could not say Amen,
+When they did say God blesse vs
+
+   Lady. Consider it not so deepely
+
+   Mac. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?
+I had most need of Blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat
+
+   Lady. These deeds must not be thought
+After these wayes: so, it will make vs mad
+
+   Macb. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more:
+Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe,
+Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care,
+The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath,
+Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course,
+Chiefe nourisher in Life's Feast
+
+   Lady. What doe you meane?
+  Macb. Still it cry'd, Sleepe no more to all the House:
+Glamis hath murther'd Sleepe, and therefore Cawdor
+Shall sleepe no more: Macbeth shall sleepe no more
+
+   Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why worthy Thane,
+You doe vnbend your Noble strength, to thinke
+So braine-sickly of things: Goe get some Water,
+And wash this filthie Witnesse from your Hand.
+Why did you bring these Daggers from the place?
+They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare
+The sleepie Groomes with blood
+
+   Macb. Ile goe no more:
+I am afraid, to thinke what I haue done:
+Looke on't againe, I dare not
+
+   Lady. Infirme of purpose:
+Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead,
+Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Childhood,
+That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed,
+Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall,
+For it must seeme their Guilt.
+Enter.
+
+Knocke within.
+
+  Macb. Whence is that knocking?
+How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?
+What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.
+Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood
+Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather
+The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
+Making the Greene one, Red.
+Enter Lady.
+
+  Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame
+To weare a Heart so white.
+
+Knocke.
+
+I heare a knocking at the South entry:
+Retyre we to our Chamber:
+A little Water cleares vs of this deed.
+How easie is it then? your Constancie
+Hath left you vnattended.
+
+Knocke.
+
+Hearke, more knocking.
+Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs,
+And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
+So poorely in your thoughts
+
+   Macb. To know my deed,
+
+Knocke.
+
+'Twere best not know my selfe.
+Wake Duncan with thy knocking:
+I would thou could'st.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Tertia.
+
+Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
+
+  Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were
+Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the
+Key.
+
+Knock.
+
+Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
+i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd
+himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue
+Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.
+
+Knock.
+
+Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name?
+Faith here's an Equiuocator, that could sweare in both
+the Scales against eyther Scale, who committed Treason
+enough for Gods sake, yet could not equiuocate to Heauen:
+oh come in, Equiuocator.
+
+Knock.
+
+Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there? 'Faith here's an English
+Taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French Hose:
+Come in Taylor, here you may rost your Goose.
+Knock.
+
+Knock, Knock. Neuer at quiet: What are you? but this
+place is too cold for Hell. Ile Deuill-Porter it no further:
+I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that
+goe the Primrose way to th' euerlasting Bonfire.
+
+Knock.
+
+Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter.
+Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
+
+  Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to Bed,
+That you doe lye so late?
+  Port. Faith Sir, we were carowsing till the second Cock:
+And Drinke, Sir, is a great prouoker of three things
+
+   Macd. What three things does Drinke especially
+prouoke?
+  Port. Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleepe, and Vrine.
+Lecherie, Sir, it prouokes, and vnprouokes: it prouokes
+the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore
+much Drinke may be said to be an Equiuocator with Lecherie:
+it makes him, and it marres him; it sets him on,
+and it takes him off; it perswades him, and dis-heartens
+him; makes him stand too, and not stand too: in conclusion,
+equiuocates him in a sleepe, and giuing him the Lye,
+leaues him
+
+   Macd. I beleeue, Drinke gaue thee the Lye last Night
+
+   Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me: but I
+requited him for his Lye, and (I thinke) being too strong
+for him, though he tooke vp my Legges sometime, yet I
+made a Shift to cast him.
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+  Macd. Is thy Master stirring?
+Our knocking ha's awak'd him: here he comes
+
+   Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir
+
+   Macb. Good morrow both
+
+   Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?
+  Macb. Not yet
+
+   Macd. He did command me to call timely on him,
+I haue almost slipt the houre
+
+   Macb. Ile bring you to him
+
+   Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you:
+But yet 'tis one
+
+   Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine:
+This is the Doore
+
+   Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted
+seruice.
+
+Exit Macduffe.
+
+  Lenox. Goes the King hence to day?
+  Macb. He does: he did appoint so
+
+   Lenox. The Night ha's been vnruly:
+Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe,
+And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre;
+Strange Schreemes of Death,
+And Prophecying, with Accents terrible,
+Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents,
+New hatch'd toth' wofull time.
+The obscure Bird clamor'd the liue-long Night.
+Some say, the Earth was Feuorous,
+And did shake
+
+   Macb. 'Twas a rough Night
+
+   Lenox. My young remembrance cannot paralell
+A fellow to it.
+Enter Macduff.
+
+  Macd. O horror, horror, horror,
+Tongue nor Heart cannot conceiue, nor name thee
+
+   Macb. and Lenox. What's the matter?
+  Macd. Confusion now hath made his Master-peece:
+Most sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope
+The Lords anoynted Temple, and stole thence
+The Life o'th' Building
+
+   Macb. What is't you say, the Life?
+  Lenox. Meane you his Maiestie?
+  Macd. Approch the Chamber, and destroy your sight
+With a new Gorgon. Doe not bid me speake:
+See, and then speake your selues: awake, awake,
+
+Exeunt. Macbeth and Lenox.
+
+Ring the Alarum Bell: Murther, and Treason,
+Banquo, and Donalbaine: Malcolme awake,
+Shake off this Downey sleepe, Deaths counterfeit,
+And looke on Death it selfe: vp, vp, and see
+The great Doomes Image: Malcolme, Banquo,
+As from your Graues rise vp, and walke like Sprights,
+To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.
+
+Bell rings. Enter Lady.
+
+  Lady. What's the Businesse?
+That such a hideous Trumpet calls to parley
+The sleepers of the House? speake, speake
+
+   Macd. O gentle Lady,
+'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake:
+The repetition in a Womans eare,
+Would murther as it fell.
+Enter Banquo.
+
+O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Master's murther'd
+
+   Lady. Woe, alas:
+What, in our House?
+  Ban. Too cruell, any where.
+Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy selfe,
+And say, it is not so.
+Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Rosse.
+
+  Macb. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance,
+I had liu'd a blessed time: for from this instant,
+There's nothing serious in Mortalitie:
+All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead,
+The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees
+Is left this Vault, to brag of.
+Enter Malcolme and Donalbaine.
+
+  Donal. What is amisse?
+  Macb. You are, and doe not know't:
+The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood
+Is stopt, the very Source of it is stopt
+
+   Macd. Your Royall Father's murther'd
+
+   Mal. Oh, by whom?
+  Lenox. Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
+Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood,
+So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found
+Vpon their Pillowes: they star'd, and were distracted,
+No mans Life was to be trusted with them
+
+   Macb. O, yet I doe repent me of my furie,
+That I did kill them
+
+   Macd. Wherefore did you so?
+  Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,
+Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man:
+Th' expedition of my violent Loue
+Out-run the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan,
+His Siluer skinne, lac'd with His Golden Blood,
+And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature,
+For Ruines wastfull entrance: there the Murtherers,
+Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers
+Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine,
+That had a heart to loue; and in that heart,
+Courage, to make's loue knowne?
+  Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa
+
+   Macd. Looke to the Lady
+
+   Mal. Why doe we hold our tongues,
+That most may clayme this argument for ours?
+  Donal. What should be spoken here,
+Where our Fate hid in an augure hole,
+May rush, and seize vs? Let's away,
+Our Teares are not yet brew'd
+
+   Mal. Nor our strong Sorrow
+Vpon the foot of Motion
+
+   Banq. Looke to the Lady:
+And when we haue our naked Frailties hid,
+That suffer in exposure; let vs meet,
+And question this most bloody piece of worke,
+To know it further. Feares and scruples shake vs:
+In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence,
+Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight
+Of Treasonous Mallice
+
+   Macd. And so doe I
+
+   All. So all
+
+   Macb. Let's briefely put on manly readinesse,
+And meet i'th' Hall together
+
+   All. Well contented.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+  Malc. What will you doe?
+Let's not consort with them:
+To shew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office
+Which the false man do's easie.
+Ile to England
+
+   Don. To Ireland, I:
+Our seperated fortune shall keepe vs both the safer:
+Where we are, there's Daggers in mens smiles;
+The neere in blood, the neerer bloody
+
+   Malc. This murtherous Shaft that's shot,
+Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way,
+Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horse,
+And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking,
+But shift away: there's warrant in that Theft,
+Which steales it selfe, when there's no mercie left.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+
+Scena Quarta.
+
+Enter Rosse, with an Old man.
+
+  Old man. Threescore and ten I can remember well,
+Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene
+Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night
+Hath trifled former knowings
+
+   Rosse. Ha, good Father,
+Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act,
+Threatens his bloody Stage: byth' Clock 'tis Day,
+And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe:
+Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame,
+That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe,
+When liuing Light should kisse it?
+  Old man. 'Tis vnnaturall,
+Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last,
+A Faulcon towring in her pride of place,
+Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd
+
+   Rosse. And Duncans Horses,
+(A thing most strange, and certaine)
+Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race,
+Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their stalls, flong out,
+Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would
+Make Warre with Mankinde
+
+   Old man. 'Tis said, they eate each other
+
+   Rosse. They did so:
+To th' amazement of mine eyes that look'd vpon't.
+Enter Macduffe.
+
+Heere comes the good Macduffe.
+How goes the world Sir, now?
+  Macd. Why see you not?
+  Ross. Is't known who did this more then bloody deed?
+  Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slaine
+
+   Ross. Alas the day,
+What good could they pretend?
+  Macd. They were subborned,
+Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes
+Are stolne away and fled, which puts vpon them
+Suspition of the deed
+
+   Rosse. 'Gainst Nature still,
+Thriftlesse Ambition, that will rauen vp
+Thine owne liues meanes: Then 'tis most like,
+The Soueraignty will fall vpon Macbeth
+
+   Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone
+To be inuested
+
+   Rosse. Where is Duncans body?
+  Macd. Carried to Colmekill,
+The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors,
+And Guardian of their Bones
+
+   Rosse. Will you to Scone?
+  Macd. No Cosin, Ile to Fife
+
+   Rosse. Well, I will thither
+
+   Macd. Well may you see things wel done there: Adieu
+Least our old Robes sit easier then our new
+
+   Rosse. Farewell, Father
+
+   Old M. Gods benyson go with you, and with those
+That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.
+
+Exeunt. omnes
+
+Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
+
+Enter Banquo.
+
+  Banq. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
+As the weyard Women promis'd, and I feare
+Thou playd'st most fowly for't: yet it was saide
+It should not stand in thy Posterity,
+But that my selfe should be the Roote, and Father
+Of many Kings. If there come truth from them,
+As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches shine,
+Why by the verities on thee made good,
+May they not be my Oracles as well,
+And set me vp in hope. But hush, no more.
+
+Senit sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox, Rosse, Lords,
+and
+Attendants.
+
+  Macb. Heere's our chiefe Guest
+
+   La. If he had beene forgotten,
+It had bene as a gap in our great Feast,
+And all-thing vnbecomming
+
+   Macb. To night we hold a solemne Supper sir,
+And Ile request your presence
+
+   Banq. Let your Highnesse
+Command vpon me, to the which my duties
+Are with a most indissoluble tye
+For euer knit
+
+   Macb. Ride you this afternoone?
+  Ban. I, my good Lord
+
+   Macb. We should haue else desir'd your good aduice
+(Which still hath been both graue, and prosperous)
+In this dayes Councell: but wee'le take to morrow.
+Is't farre you ride?
+  Ban. As farre, my Lord, as will fill vp the time
+'Twixt this, and Supper. Goe not my Horse the better,
+I must become a borrower of the Night,
+For a darke houre, or twaine
+
+   Macb. Faile not our Feast
+
+   Ban. My Lord, I will not
+
+   Macb. We heare our bloody Cozens are bestow'd
+In England, and in Ireland, not confessing
+Their cruell Parricide, filling their hearers
+With strange inuention. But of that to morrow,
+When therewithall, we shall haue cause of State,
+Crauing vs ioyntly. Hye you to Horse:
+Adieu, till you returne at Night.
+Goes Fleance with you?
+  Ban. I, my good Lord: our time does call vpon's
+
+   Macb. I wish your Horses swift, and sure of foot:
+And so I doe commend you to their backs.
+Farwell.
+
+Exit Banquo.
+
+Let euery man be master of his time,
+Till seuen at Night, to make societie
+The sweeter welcome:
+We will keepe our selfe till Supper time alone:
+While then, God be with you.
+
+Exeunt. Lords.
+
+Sirrha, a word with you: Attend those men
+Our pleasure?
+  Seruant. They are, my Lord, without the Pallace
+Gate
+
+   Macb. Bring them before vs.
+
+Exit Seruant.
+
+To be thus, is nothing, but to be safely thus
+Our feares in Banquo sticke deepe,
+And in his Royaltie of Nature reignes that
+Which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares,
+And to that dauntlesse temper of his Minde,
+He hath a Wisdome, that doth guide his Valour,
+To act in safetie. There is none but he,
+Whose being I doe feare: and vnder him,
+My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said
+Mark Anthonies was by Caesar. He chid the Sisters,
+When first they put the Name of King vpon me,
+And bad them speake to him. Then Prophet-like,
+They hayl'd him Father to a Line of Kings.
+Vpon my Head they plac'd a fruitlesse Crowne,
+And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe,
+Thence to be wrencht with an vnlineall Hand,
+No Sonne of mine succeeding: if't be so,
+For Banquo's Issue haue I fil'd my Minde,
+For them, the gracious Duncan haue I murther'd,
+Put Rancours in the Vessell of my Peace
+Onely for them, and mine eternall Iewell
+Giuen to the common Enemie of Man,
+To make them Kings, the Seedes of Banquo Kings.
+Rather then so, come Fate into the Lyst,
+And champion me to th' vtterance.
+Who's there?
+Enter Seruant, and two Murtherers.
+
+Now goe to the Doore, and stay there till we call.
+
+Exit Seruant.
+
+Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
+  Murth. It was, so please your Highnesse
+
+   Macb. Well then,
+Now haue you consider'd of my speeches:
+Know, that it was he, in the times past,
+Which held you so vnder fortune,
+Which you thought had been our innocent selfe.
+This I made good to you, in our last conference,
+Past in probation with you:
+How you were borne in hand, how crost:
+The Instruments: who wrought with them:
+And all things else, that might
+To halfe a Soule, and to a Notion craz'd,
+Say, Thus did Banquo
+
+   1.Murth. You made it knowne to vs
+
+   Macb. I did so:
+And went further, which is now
+Our point of second meeting.
+Doe you finde your patience so predominant,
+In your nature, that you can let this goe?
+Are you so Gospell'd, to pray for this good man,
+And for his Issue, whose heauie hand
+Hath bow'd you to the Graue, and begger'd
+Yours for euer?
+  1.Murth. We are men, my Liege
+
+   Macb. I, in the Catalogue ye goe for men,
+As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mungrels, Spaniels, Curres,
+Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolues are clipt
+All by the Name of Dogges: the valued file
+Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
+The House-keeper, the Hunter, euery one
+According to the gift, which bounteous Nature
+Hath in him clos'd: whereby he does receiue
+Particular addition, from the Bill,
+That writes them all alike: and so of men.
+Now, if you haue a station in the file,
+Not i'th' worst ranke of Manhood, say't,
+And I will put that Businesse in your Bosomes,
+Whose execution takes your Enemie off,
+Grapples you to the heart; and loue of vs,
+Who weare our Health but sickly in his Life,
+Which in his Death were perfect
+
+   2.Murth. I am one, my Liege,
+Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the World
+Hath so incens'd, that I am recklesse what I doe,
+To spight the World
+
+   1.Murth. And I another,
+So wearie with Disasters, tugg'd with Fortune,
+That I would set my Life on any Chance,
+To mend it, or be rid on't
+
+   Macb. Both of you know Banquo was your Enemie
+
+   Murth. True, my Lord
+
+   Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance,
+That euery minute of his being, thrusts
+Against my neer'st of Life: and though I could
+With bare-fac'd power sweepe him from my sight,
+And bid my will auouch it; yet I must not,
+For certaine friends that are both his, and mine,
+Whose loues I may not drop, but wayle his fall,
+Who I my selfe struck downe: and thence it is,
+That I to your assistance doe make loue,
+Masking the Businesse from the common Eye,
+For sundry weightie Reasons
+
+   2.Murth. We shall, my Lord,
+Performe what you command vs
+
+   1.Murth. Though our Liues-
+  Macb. Your Spirits shine through you.
+Within this houre, at most,
+I will aduise you where to plant your selues,
+Acquaint you with the perfect Spy o'th' time,
+The moment on't, for't must be done to Night,
+And something from the Pallace: alwayes thought,
+That I require a clearenesse; and with him,
+To leaue no Rubs nor Botches in the Worke:
+  Fleans , his Sonne, that keepes him companie,
+Whose absence is no lesse materiall to me,
+Then is his Fathers, must embrace the fate
+Of that darke houre: resolue your selues apart,
+Ile come to you anon
+
+   Murth. We are resolu'd, my Lord
+
+   Macb. Ile call vpon you straight: abide within,
+It is concluded: Banquo, thy Soules flight,
+If it finde Heauen, must finde it out to Night.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Secunda.
+
+Enter Macbeths Lady, and a Seruant.
+
+  Lady. Is Banquo gone from Court?
+  Seruant. I, Madame, but returnes againe to Night
+
+   Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leysure,
+For a few words
+
+   Seruant. Madame, I will.
+Enter.
+
+  Lady. Nought's had, all's spent.
+Where our desire is got without content:
+'Tis safer, to be that which we destroy,
+Then by destruction dwell in doubtfull ioy.
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+How now, my Lord, why doe you keepe alone?
+Of sorryest Fancies your Companions making,
+Vsing those Thoughts, which should indeed haue dy'd
+With them they thinke on: things without all remedie
+Should be without regard: what's done, is done
+
+   Macb. We haue scorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it:
+Shee'le close, and be her selfe, whilest our poore Mallice
+Remaines in danger of her former Tooth.
+But let the frame of things dis-ioynt,
+Both the Worlds suffer,
+Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe
+In the affliction of these terrible Dreames,
+That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead,
+Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace,
+Then on the torture of the Minde to lye
+In restlesse extasie.
+Duncane is in his Graue:
+After Lifes fitfull Feuer, he sleepes well,
+Treason ha's done his worst: nor Steele, nor Poyson,
+Mallice domestique, forraine Leuie, nothing,
+Can touch him further
+
+   Lady. Come on:
+Gentle my Lord, sleeke o're your rugged Lookes,
+Be bright and Iouiall among your Guests to Night
+
+   Macb. So shall I Loue, and so I pray be you:
+Let your remembrance apply to Banquo,
+Present him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue:
+Vnsafe the while, that wee must laue
+Our Honors in these flattering streames,
+And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts,
+Disguising what they are
+
+   Lady. You must leaue this
+
+   Macb. O, full of Scorpions is my Minde, deare Wife:
+Thou know'st, that Banquo and his Fleans liues
+
+   Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne
+
+   Macb. There's comfort yet, they are assaileable,
+Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne
+His Cloyster'd flight, ere to black Heccats summons
+The shard-borne Beetle, with his drowsie hums,
+Hath rung Nights yawning Peale,
+There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note
+
+   Lady. What's to be done?
+  Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest Chuck,
+Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night,
+Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
+And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand
+Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
+Which keepes me pale. Light thickens,
+And the Crow makes Wing toth' Rookie Wood:
+Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowse,
+Whiles Nights black Agents to their Prey's doe rowse.
+Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still,
+Things bad begun, make strong themselues by ill:
+So prythee goe with me.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Tertia.
+
+Enter three Murtherers.
+
+  1. But who did bid thee ioyne with vs?
+  3. Macbeth
+
+   2. He needes not our mistrust, since he deliuers
+Our Offices, and what we haue to doe,
+To the direction iust
+
+   1. Then stand with vs:
+The West yet glimmers with some streakes of Day.
+Now spurres the lated Traueller apace,
+To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approches
+The subiect of our Watch
+
+   3. Hearke, I heare Horses
+
+   Banquo within. Giue vs a Light there, hoa
+
+   2. Then 'tis hee:
+The rest, that are within the note of expectation,
+Alreadie are i'th' Court
+
+   1. His Horses goe about
+
+   3. Almost a mile: but he does vsually,
+So all men doe, from hence toth' Pallace Gate
+Make it their Walke.
+Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.
+
+  2. A Light, a Light
+
+   3. 'Tis hee
+
+   1. Stand too't
+
+   Ban. It will be Rayne to Night
+
+   1. Let it come downe
+
+   Ban. O, Trecherie!
+Flye good Fleans, flye, flye, flye,
+Thou may'st reuenge. O Slaue!
+  3. Who did strike out the Light?
+  1. Was't not the way?
+  3. There's but one downe: the Sonne is fled
+
+   2. We haue lost
+Best halfe of our Affaire
+
+   1. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scaena Quarta.
+
+Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and
+Attendants.
+
+  Macb. You know your owne degrees, sit downe:
+At first and last, the hearty welcome
+
+   Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty
+
+   Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society,
+And play the humble Host:
+Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time
+We will require her welcome
+
+   La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends,
+For my heart speakes, they are welcome.
+Enter first Murtherer.
+
+  Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks
+Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st,
+Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure
+The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face
+
+   Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then
+
+   Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.
+Is he dispatch'd?
+  Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him
+
+   Mac. Thou art the best o'th' Cut-throats,
+Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans:
+If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill
+
+   Mur. Most Royall Sir
+Fleans is scap'd
+
+   Macb. Then comes my Fit againe:
+I had else beene perfect;
+Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke,
+As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre:
+But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in
+To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe?
+  Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
+With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
+The least a Death to Nature
+
+   Macb. Thankes for that:
+There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled
+Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed,
+No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow
+Wee'l heare our selues againe.
+
+Exit Murderer.
+
+  Lady. My Royall Lord,
+You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold
+That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making:
+'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home:
+From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony,
+Meeting were bare without it.
+Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place.
+
+  Macb. Sweet Remembrancer:
+Now good digestion waite on Appetite,
+And health on both
+
+   Lenox. May't please your Highnesse sit
+
+   Macb. Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd,
+Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present:
+Who, may I rather challenge for vnkindnesse,
+Then pitty for Mischance
+
+   Rosse. His absence (Sir)
+Layes blame vpon his promise. Pleas't your Highnesse
+To grace vs with your Royall Company?
+  Macb. The Table's full
+
+   Lenox. Heere is a place reseru'd Sir
+
+   Macb. Where?
+  Lenox. Heere my good Lord.
+What is't that moues your Highnesse?
+  Macb. Which of you haue done this?
+  Lords. What, my good Lord?
+  Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: neuer shake
+Thy goary lockes at me
+
+   Rosse. Gentlemen rise, his Highnesse is not well
+
+   Lady. Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus,
+And hath beene from his youth. Pray you keepe Seat,
+The fit is momentary, vpon a thought
+He will againe be well. If much you note him
+You shall offend him, and extend his Passion,
+Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
+  Macb. I, and a bold one, that dare looke on that
+Which might appall the Diuell
+
+   La. O proper stuffe:
+This is the very painting of your feare:
+This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you said
+Led you to Duncan. O, these flawes and starts
+(Impostors to true feare) would well become
+A womans story, at a Winters fire
+Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it selfe,
+Why do you make such faces? When all's done
+You looke but on a stoole
+
+   Macb. Prythee see there:
+Behold, looke, loe, how say you:
+Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speake too.
+If Charnell houses, and our Graues must send
+Those that we bury, backe; our Monuments
+Shall be the Mawes of Kytes
+
+   La. What? quite vnmann'd in folly
+
+   Macb. If I stand heere, I saw him
+
+   La. Fie for shame
+
+   Macb. Blood hath bene shed ere now, i'th' olden time
+Ere humane Statute purg'd the gentle Weale:
+I, and since too, Murthers haue bene perform'd
+Too terrible for the eare. The times has bene,
+That when the Braines were out, the man would dye,
+And there an end: But now they rise againe
+With twenty mortall murthers on their crownes,
+And push vs from our stooles. This is more strange
+Then such a murther is
+
+   La. My worthy Lord
+Your Noble Friends do lacke you
+
+   Macb. I do forget:
+Do not muse at me my most worthy Friends,
+I haue a strange infirmity, which is nothing
+To those that know me. Come, loue and health to all,
+Then Ile sit downe: Giue me some Wine, fill full:
+Enter Ghost.
+
+I drinke to th' generall ioy o'th' whole Table,
+And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we misse:
+Would he were heere: to all, and him we thirst,
+And all to all
+
+   Lords. Our duties, and the pledge
+
+   Mac. Auant, & quit my sight, let the earth hide thee:
+Thy bones are marrowlesse, thy blood is cold:
+Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
+Which thou dost glare with
+
+   La. Thinke of this good Peeres
+But as a thing of Custome: 'Tis no other,
+Onely it spoyles the pleasure of the time
+
+   Macb. What man dare, I dare:
+Approach thou like the rugged Russian Beare,
+The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hircan Tiger,
+Take any shape but that, and my firme Nerues
+Shall neuer tremble. Or be aliue againe,
+And dare me to the Desart with thy Sword:
+If trembling I inhabit then, protest mee
+The Baby of a Girle. Hence horrible shadow,
+Vnreall mock'ry hence. Why so, being gone
+I am a man againe: pray you sit still
+
+   La. You haue displac'd the mirth,
+Broke the good meeting, with most admir'd disorder
+
+   Macb. Can such things be,
+And ouercome vs like a Summers Clowd,
+Without our speciall wonder? You make me strange
+Euen to the disposition that I owe,
+When now I thinke you can behold such sights,
+And keepe the naturall Rubie of your Cheekes,
+When mine is blanch'd with feare
+
+   Rosse. What sights, my Lord?
+  La. I pray you speake not: he growes worse & worse
+Question enrages him: at once, goodnight.
+Stand not vpon the order of your going,
+But go at once
+
+   Len. Good night, and better health
+Attend his Maiesty
+
+   La. A kinde goodnight to all.
+
+Exit Lords.
+
+  Macb. It will haue blood they say:
+Blood will haue Blood:
+Stones haue beene knowne to moue, & Trees to speake:
+Augures, and vnderstood Relations, haue
+By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes, & Rookes brought forth
+The secret'st man of Blood. What is the night?
+  La. Almost at oddes with morning, which is which
+
+   Macb. How say'st thou that Macduff denies his person
+At our great bidding
+
+   La. Did you send to him Sir?
+  Macb. I heare it by the way: But I will send:
+There's not a one of them but in his house
+I keepe a Seruant Feed. I will to morrow
+(And betimes I will) to the weyard Sisters.
+More shall they speake: for now I am bent to know
+By the worst meanes, the worst, for mine owne good,
+All causes shall giue way. I am in blood
+Stept in so farre, that should I wade no more,
+Returning were as tedious as go ore:
+Strange things I haue in head, that will to hand,
+Which must be acted, ere they may be scand
+
+   La. You lacke the season of all Natures, sleepe
+
+   Macb. Come, wee'l to sleepe: My strange & self-abuse
+Is the initiate feare, that wants hard vse:
+We are yet but yong indeed.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Quinta.
+
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecat.
+
+  1. Why how now Hecat, you looke angerly?
+  Hec. Haue I not reason (Beldams) as you are?
+Sawcy, and ouer-bold, how did you dare
+To Trade, and Trafficke with Macbeth,
+In Riddles, and Affaires of death;
+And I the Mistris of your Charmes,
+The close contriuer of all harmes,
+Was neuer call'd to beare my part,
+Or shew the glory of our Art?
+And which is worse, all you haue done
+Hath bene but for a wayward Sonne,
+Spightfull, and wrathfull, who (as others do)
+Loues for his owne ends, not for you.
+But make amends now: Get you gon,
+And at the pit of Acheron
+Meete me i'th' Morning: thither he
+Will come, to know his Destinie.
+Your Vessels, and your Spels prouide,
+Your Charmes, and euery thing beside;
+I am for th' Ayre: This night Ile spend
+Vnto a dismall, and a Fatall end.
+Great businesse must be wrought ere Noone.
+Vpon the Corner of the Moone
+There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound,
+Ile catch it ere it come to ground;
+And that distill'd by Magicke slights,
+Shall raise such Artificiall Sprights,
+As by the strength of their illusion,
+Shall draw him on to his Confusion.
+He shall spurne Fate, scorne Death, and beare
+His hopes 'boue Wisedome, Grace, and Feare:
+And you all know, Security
+Is Mortals cheefest Enemie.
+
+Musicke, and a Song.
+
+Hearke, I am call'd: my little Spirit see
+Sits in Foggy cloud, and stayes for me.
+
+Sing within. Come away, come away, &c.
+
+  1 Come, let's make hast, shee'l soone be
+Backe againe.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scaena Sexta.
+
+Enter Lenox, and another Lord.
+
+  Lenox. My former Speeches,
+Haue but hit your Thoughts
+Which can interpret farther: Onely I say
+Things haue bin strangely borne. The gracious Duncan
+Was pittied of Macbeth: marry he was dead:
+And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late,
+Whom you may say (if't please you) Fleans kill'd,
+For Fleans fled: Men must not walke too late.
+Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
+It was for Malcolme, and for Donalbane
+To kill their gracious Father? Damned Fact,
+How it did greeue Macbeth? Did he not straight
+In pious rage, the two delinquents teare,
+That were the Slaues of drinke, and thralles of sleepe?
+Was not that Nobly done? I, and wisely too:
+For 'twould haue anger'd any heart aliue
+To heare the men deny't. So that I say,
+He ha's borne all things well, and I do thinke,
+That had he Duncans Sonnes vnder his Key,
+(As, and't please Heauen he shall not) they should finde
+What 'twere to kill a Father: So should Fleans.
+But peace; for from broad words, and cause he fayl'd
+His presence at the Tyrants Feast, I heare
+Macduffe liues in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
+Where he bestowes himselfe?
+  Lord. The Sonnes of Duncane
+(From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth)
+Liues in the English Court, and is receyu'd
+Of the most Pious Edward, with such grace,
+That the maleuolence of Fortune, nothing
+Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduffe
+Is gone, to pray the Holy King, vpon his ayd
+To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward,
+That by the helpe of these (with him aboue)
+To ratifie the Worke) we may againe
+Giue to our Tables meate, sleepe to our Nights:
+Free from our Feasts, and Banquets bloody kniues;
+Do faithfull Homage, and receiue free Honors,
+All which we pine for now. And this report
+Hath so exasperate their King, that hee
+Prepares for some attempt of Warre
+
+   Len. Sent he to Macduffe?
+  Lord. He did: and with an absolute Sir, not I
+The clowdy Messenger turnes me his backe,
+And hums; as who should say, you'l rue the time
+That clogges me with this Answer
+
+   Lenox. And that well might
+Aduise him to a Caution, t' hold what distance
+His wisedome can prouide. Some holy Angell
+Flye to the Court of England, and vnfold
+His Message ere he come, that a swift blessing
+May soone returne to this our suffering Country,
+Vnder a hand accurs'd
+
+   Lord. Ile send my Prayers with him.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
+
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
+
+  1 Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd
+
+   2 Thrice, and once the Hedge-Pigge whin'd
+
+   3 Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time
+
+   1 Round about the Caldron go:
+In the poysond Entrailes throw
+Toad, that vnder cold stone,
+Dayes and Nights, ha's thirty one:
+Sweltred Venom sleeping got,
+Boyle thou first i'th' charmed pot
+
+   All. Double, double, toile and trouble;
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+
+   2 Fillet of a Fenny Snake,
+In the Cauldron boyle and bake:
+Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge,
+Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge:
+Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting,
+Lizards legge, and Howlets wing:
+For a Charme of powrefull trouble,
+Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble
+
+   All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+
+   3 Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolfe,
+Witches Mummey, Maw, and Gulfe
+Of the rauin'd salt Sea sharke:
+Roote of Hemlocke, digg'd i'th' darke:
+Liuer of Blaspheming Iew,
+Gall of Goate, and Slippes of Yew,
+Sliuer'd in the Moones Ecclipse:
+Nose of Turke, and Tartars lips:
+Finger of Birth-strangled Babe,
+Ditch-deliuer'd by a Drab,
+Make the Grewell thicke, and slab.
+Adde thereto a Tigers Chawdron,
+For th' Ingredience of our Cawdron
+
+   All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+
+   2 Coole it with a Baboones blood,
+Then the Charme is firme and good.
+Enter Hecat, and the other three Witches.
+
+  Hec. O well done: I commend your paines,
+And euery one shall share i'th' gaines:
+And now about the Cauldron sing
+Like Elues and Fairies in a Ring,
+Inchanting all that you put in.
+
+Musicke and a Song. Blacke Spirits, &c.
+
+  2 By the pricking of my Thumbes,
+Something wicked this way comes:
+Open Lockes, who euer knockes.
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+  Macb. How now you secret, black, & midnight Hags?
+What is't you do?
+  All. A deed without a name
+
+   Macb. I coniure you, by that which you Professe,
+(How ere you come to know it) answer me:
+Though you vntye the Windes, and let them fight
+Against the Churches: Though the yesty Waues
+Confound and swallow Nauigation vp:
+Though bladed Corne be lodg'd, & Trees blown downe,
+Though Castles topple on their Warders heads:
+Though Pallaces, and Pyramids do slope
+Their heads to their Foundations: Though the treasure
+Of Natures Germaine, tumble altogether,
+Euen till destruction sicken: Answer me
+To what I aske you
+
+   1 Speake
+
+   2 Demand
+
+   3 Wee'l answer
+
+   1 Say, if th'hadst rather heare it from our mouthes,
+Or from our Masters
+
+   Macb. Call 'em: let me see 'em
+
+   1 Powre in Sowes blood, that hath eaten
+Her nine Farrow: Greaze that's sweaten
+From the Murderers Gibbet, throw
+Into the Flame
+
+   All. Come high or low:
+Thy Selfe and Office deaftly show.
+Thunder. 1. Apparation, an Armed Head.
+
+  Macb. Tell me, thou vnknowne power
+
+   1 He knowes thy thought:
+Heare his speech, but say thou nought
+
+   1 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth:
+Beware Macduffe,
+Beware the Thane of Fife: dismisse me. Enough.
+
+He Descends.
+
+  Macb. What ere thou art, for thy good caution, thanks
+Thou hast harp'd my feare aright. But one word more
+
+   1 He will not be commanded: heere's another
+More potent then the first.
+
+Thunder. 2 Apparition, a Bloody Childe.
+
+  2 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth
+
+   Macb. Had I three eares, Il'd heare thee
+
+   Appar. Be bloody, bold, & resolute:
+Laugh to scorne
+The powre of man: For none of woman borne
+Shall harme Macbeth.
+
+Descends.
+
+  Mac. Then liue Macduffe: what need I feare of thee?
+But yet Ile make assurance: double sure,
+And take a Bond of Fate: thou shalt not liue,
+That I may tell pale-hearted Feare, it lies;
+And sleepe in spight of Thunder.
+
+Thunder 3 Apparation, a Childe Crowned, with a Tree in his hand.
+
+What is this, that rises like the issue of a King,
+And weares vpon his Baby-brow, the round
+And top of Soueraignty?
+  All. Listen, but speake not too't
+
+   3 Appar. Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care:
+Who chafes, who frets, or where Conspirers are:
+Macbeth shall neuer vanquish'd be, vntill
+Great Byrnam Wood, to high Dunsmane Hill
+Shall come against him.
+
+Descend.
+
+  Macb. That will neuer bee:
+Who can impresse the Forrest, bid the Tree
+Vnfixe his earth-bound Root? Sweet boadments, good:
+Rebellious dead, rise neuer till the Wood
+Of Byrnan rise, and our high plac'd Macbeth
+Shall liue the Lease of Nature, pay his breath
+To time, and mortall Custome. Yet my Hart
+Throbs to know one thing: Tell me, if your Art
+Can tell so much: Shall Banquo's issue euer
+Reigne in this Kingdome?
+  All. Seeke to know no more
+
+   Macb. I will be satisfied. Deny me this,
+And an eternall Curse fall on you: Let me know.
+Why sinkes that Caldron? & what noise is this?
+
+Hoboyes
+
+  1 Shew
+
+   2 Shew
+
+   3 Shew
+
+   All. Shew his Eyes, and greeue his Hart,
+Come like shadowes, so depart.
+
+A shew of eight Kings, and Banquo last, with a glasse in his hand.
+
+  Macb. Thou art too like the Spirit of Banquo: Down:
+Thy Crowne do's seare mine Eye-bals. And thy haire
+Thou other Gold-bound-brow, is like the first:
+A third, is like the former. Filthy Hagges,
+Why do you shew me this? - A fourth? Start eyes!
+What will the Line stretch out to'th' cracke of Doome?
+Another yet? A seauenth? Ile see no more:
+And yet the eighth appeares, who beares a glasse,
+Which shewes me many more: and some I see,
+That two-fold Balles, and trebble Scepters carry.
+Horrible sight: Now I see 'tis true,
+For the Blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles vpon me,
+And points at them for his. What? is this so?
+  1 I Sir, all this is so. But why
+Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
+Come Sisters, cheere we vp his sprights,
+And shew the best of our delights.
+Ile Charme the Ayre to giue a sound,
+While you performe your Antique round:
+That this great King may kindly say,
+Our duties, did his welcome pay.
+
+Musicke. The Witches Dance, and vanish.
+
+  Macb. Where are they? Gone?
+Let this pernitious houre,
+Stand aye accursed in the Kalender.
+Come in, without there.
+Enter Lenox.
+
+  Lenox. What's your Graces will
+
+   Macb. Saw you the Weyard Sisters?
+  Lenox. No my Lord
+
+   Macb. Came they not by you?
+  Lenox. No indeed my Lord
+
+   Macb. Infected be the Ayre whereon they ride,
+And damn'd all those that trust them. I did heare
+The gallopping of Horse. Who was't came by?
+  Len. 'Tis two or three my Lord, that bring you word:
+Macduff is fled to England
+
+   Macb. Fled to England?
+  Len. I, my good Lord
+
+   Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:
+The flighty purpose neuer is o're-tooke
+Vnlesse the deed go with it. From this moment,
+The very firstlings of my heart shall be
+The firstlings of my hand. And euen now
+To Crown my thoughts with Acts: be it thoght & done:
+The Castle of Macduff, I will surprize.
+Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword
+His Wife, his Babes, and all vnfortunate Soules
+That trace him in his Line. No boasting like a Foole,
+This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole,
+But no more sights. Where are these Gentlemen?
+Come bring me where they are.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Scena Secunda.
+
+Enter Macduffes Wife, her Son, and Rosse.
+
+  Wife. What had he done, to make him fly the Land?
+  Rosse. You must haue patience Madam
+
+   Wife. He had none:
+His flight was madnesse: when our Actions do not,
+Our feares do make vs Traitors
+
+   Rosse. You know not
+Whether it was his wisedome, or his feare
+
+   Wife. Wisedom? to leaue his wife, to leaue his Babes,
+His Mansion, and his Titles, in a place
+From whence himselfe do's flye? He loues vs not,
+He wants the naturall touch. For the poore Wren
+(The most diminitiue of Birds) will fight,
+Her yong ones in her Nest, against the Owle:
+All is the Feare, and nothing is the Loue;
+As little is the Wisedome, where the flight
+So runnes against all reason
+
+   Rosse. My deerest Cooz,
+I pray you schoole your selfe. But for your Husband,
+He is Noble, Wise, Iudicious, and best knowes
+The fits o'th' Season. I dare not speake much further,
+But cruell are the times, when we are Traitors
+And do not know our selues: when we hold Rumor
+From what we feare, yet know not what we feare,
+But floate vpon a wilde and violent Sea
+Each way, and moue. I take my leaue of you:
+Shall not be long but Ile be heere againe:
+Things at the worst will cease, or else climbe vpward,
+To what they were before. My pretty Cosine,
+Blessing vpon you
+
+   Wife. Father'd he is,
+And yet hee's Father-lesse
+
+   Rosse. I am so much a Foole, should I stay longer
+It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort.
+I take my leaue at once.
+
+Exit Rosse.
+
+  Wife. Sirra, your Fathers dead,
+And what will you do now? How will you liue?
+  Son. As Birds do Mother
+
+   Wife. What with Wormes, and Flyes?
+  Son. With what I get I meane, and so do they
+
+   Wife. Poore Bird,
+Thou'dst neuer Feare the Net, nor Lime,
+The Pitfall, nor the Gin
+
+   Son. Why should I Mother?
+Poore Birds they are not set for:
+My Father is not dead for all your saying
+
+   Wife. Yes, he is dead:
+How wilt thou do for a Father?
+  Son. Nay how will you do for a Husband?
+  Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market
+
+   Son. Then you'l by 'em to sell againe
+
+   Wife. Thou speak'st withall thy wit,
+And yet I'faith with wit enough for thee
+
+   Son. Was my Father a Traitor, Mother?
+  Wife. I, that he was
+
+   Son. What is a Traitor?
+  Wife. Why one that sweares, and lyes
+
+   Son. And be all Traitors, that do so
+
+   Wife. Euery one that do's so, is a Traitor,
+And must be hang'd
+
+   Son. And must they all be hang'd, that swear and lye?
+  Wife. Euery one
+
+   Son. Who must hang them?
+  Wife. Why, the honest men
+
+   Son. Then the Liars and Swearers are Fools: for there
+are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beate the honest men,
+and hang vp them
+
+   Wife. Now God helpe thee, poore Monkie:
+But how wilt thou do for a Father?
+  Son. If he were dead, youl'd weepe for him: if you
+would not, it were a good signe, that I should quickely
+haue a new Father
+
+   Wife. Poore pratler, how thou talk'st?
+Enter a Messenger.
+
+  Mes. Blesse you faire Dame: I am not to you known,
+Though in your state of Honor I am perfect;
+I doubt some danger do's approach you neerely.
+If you will take a homely mans aduice,
+Be not found heere: Hence with your little ones
+To fright you thus. Me thinkes I am too sauage:
+To do worse to you, were fell Cruelty,
+Which is too nie your person. Heauen preserue you,
+I dare abide no longer.
+
+Exit Messenger
+
+  Wife. Whether should I flye?
+I haue done no harme. But I remember now
+I am in this earthly world: where to do harme
+Is often laudable, to do good sometime
+Accounted dangerous folly. Why then (alas)
+Do I put vp that womanly defence,
+To say I haue done no harme?
+What are these faces?
+Enter Murtherers.
+
+  Mur. Where is your Husband?
+  Wife. I hope in no place so vnsanctified,
+Where such as thou may'st finde him
+
+   Mur. He's a Traitor
+
+   Son. Thou ly'st thou shagge-ear'd Villaine
+
+   Mur. What you Egge?
+Yong fry of Treachery?
+  Son. He ha's kill'd me Mother,
+Run away I pray you.
+
+Exit crying Murther.
+
+
+Scaena Tertia.
+
+Enter Malcolme and Macduffe.
+
+  Mal. Let vs seeke out some desolate shade, & there
+Weepe our sad bosomes empty
+
+   Macd. Let vs rather
+Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men,
+Bestride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne,
+New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new sorowes
+Strike heauen on the face, that it resounds
+As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
+Like Syllable of Dolour
+
+   Mal. What I beleeue, Ile waile;
+What know, beleeue; and what I can redresse,
+As I shall finde the time to friend: I wil.
+What you haue spoke, it may be so perchance.
+This Tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
+Was once thought honest: you haue lou'd him well,
+He hath not touch'd you yet. I am yong, but something
+You may discerne of him through me, and wisedome
+To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe
+T' appease an angry God
+
+   Macd. I am not treacherous
+
+   Malc. But Macbeth is.
+A good and vertuous Nature may recoyle
+In an Imperiall charge. But I shall craue your pardon:
+That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
+Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
+Though all things foule, would wear the brows of grace
+Yet Grace must still looke so
+
+   Macd. I haue lost my Hopes
+
+   Malc. Perchance euen there
+Where I did finde my doubts.
+Why in that rawnesse left you Wife, and Childe?
+Those precious Motiues, those strong knots of Loue,
+Without leaue-taking. I pray you,
+Let not my Iealousies, be your Dishonors,
+But mine owne Safeties: you may be rightly iust,
+What euer I shall thinke
+
+   Macd. Bleed, bleed poore Country,
+Great Tyrrany, lay thou thy basis sure,
+For goodnesse dare not check thee: wear y thy wrongs,
+The Title, is affear'd. Far thee well Lord,
+I would not be the Villaine that thou think'st,
+For the whole Space that's in the Tyrants Graspe,
+And the rich East to boot
+
+   Mal. Be not offended:
+I speake not as in absolute feare of you:
+I thinke our Country sinkes beneath the yoake,
+It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gash
+Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall,
+There would be hands vplifted in my right:
+And heere from gracious England haue I offer
+Of goodly thousands. But for all this,
+When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head,
+Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country
+Shall haue more vices then it had before,
+More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer,
+By him that shall succeede
+
+   Macd. What should he be?
+  Mal. It is my selfe I meane: in whom I know
+All the particulars of Vice so grafted,
+That when they shall be open'd, blacke Macbeth
+Will seeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State
+Esteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd
+With my confinelesse harmes
+
+   Macd. Not in the Legions
+Of horrid Hell, can come a Diuell more damn'd
+In euils, to top Macbeth
+
+   Mal. I grant him Bloody,
+Luxurious, Auaricious, False, Deceitfull,
+Sodaine, Malicious, smacking of euery sinne
+That ha's a name. But there's no bottome, none
+In my Voluptuousnesse: Your Wiues, your Daughters,
+Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill vp
+The Cesterne of my Lust, and my Desire
+All continent Impediments would ore-beare
+That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth,
+Then such an one to reigne
+
+   Macd. Boundlesse intemperance
+In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene
+Th' vntimely emptying of the happy Throne,
+And fall of many Kings. But feare not yet
+To take vpon you what is yours: you may
+Conuey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
+And yet seeme cold. The time you may so hoodwinke:
+We haue willing Dames enough: there cannot be
+That Vulture in you, to deuoure so many
+As will to Greatnesse dedicate themselues,
+Finding it so inclinde
+
+   Mal. With this, there growes
+In my most ill-composd Affection, such
+A stanchlesse Auarice, that were I King,
+I should cut off the Nobles for their Lands,
+Desire his Iewels, and this others House,
+And my more-hauing, would be as a Sawce
+To make me hunger more, that I should forge
+Quarrels vniust against the Good and Loyall,
+Destroying them for wealth
+
+   Macd. This Auarice
+stickes deeper: growes with more pernicious roote
+Then Summer-seeming Lust: and it hath bin
+The Sword of our slaine Kings: yet do not feare,
+Scotland hath Foysons, to fill vp your will
+Of your meere Owne. All these are portable,
+With other Graces weigh'd
+
+   Mal. But I haue none. The King-becoming Graces,
+As Iustice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenesse,
+Bounty, Perseuerance, Mercy, Lowlinesse,
+Deuotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude,
+I haue no rellish of them, but abound
+In the diuision of each seuerall Crime,
+Acting it many wayes. Nay, had I powre, I should
+Poure the sweet Milke of Concord, into Hell,
+Vprore the vniuersall peace, confound
+All vnity on earth
+
+   Macd. O Scotland, Scotland
+
+   Mal. If such a one be fit to gouerne, speake:
+I am as I haue spoken
+
+   Mac. Fit to gouern? No not to liue. O Natio[n] miserable!
+With an vntitled Tyrant, bloody Sceptred,
+When shalt thou see thy wholsome dayes againe?
+Since that the truest Issue of thy Throne
+By his owne Interdiction stands accust,
+And do's blaspheme his breed? Thy Royall Father
+Was a most Sainted-King: the Queene that bore thee,
+Oftner vpon her knees, then on her feet,
+Dy'de euery day she liu'd. Fare thee well,
+These Euils thou repeat'st vpon thy selfe,
+Hath banish'd me from Scotland. O my Brest,
+Thy hope ends heere
+
+   Mal. Macduff, this Noble passion
+Childe of integrity, hath from my soule
+Wip'd the blacke Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
+To thy good Truth, and Honor. Diuellish Macbeth,
+By many of these traines, hath sought to win me
+Into his power: and modest Wisedome pluckes me
+From ouer-credulous hast: but God aboue
+Deale betweene thee and me; For euen now
+I put my selfe to thy Direction, and
+Vnspeake mine owne detraction. Heere abiure
+The taints, and blames I laide vpon my selfe,
+For strangers to my Nature. I am yet
+Vnknowne to Woman, neuer was forsworne,
+Scarsely haue coueted what was mine owne.
+At no time broke my Faith, would not betray
+The Deuill to his Fellow, and delight
+No lesse in truth then life. My first false speaking
+Was this vpon my selfe. What I am truly
+Is thine, and my poore Countries to command:
+Whither indeed, before they heere approach
+Old Seyward with ten thousand warlike men
+Already at a point, was setting foorth:
+Now wee'l together, and the chance of goodnesse
+Be like our warranted Quarrell. Why are you silent?
+  Macd. Such welcome, and vnwelcom things at once
+'Tis hard to reconcile.
+Enter a Doctor.
+
+  Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth
+I pray you?
+  Doct. I Sir: there are a crew of wretched Soules
+That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces
+The great assay of Art. But at his touch,
+Such sanctity hath Heauen giuen his hand,
+They presently amend.
+Enter.
+
+  Mal. I thanke you Doctor
+
+   Macd. What's the Disease he meanes?
+  Mal. Tis call'd the Euill.
+A most myraculous worke in this good King,
+Which often since my heere remaine in England,
+I haue seene him do: How he solicites heauen
+Himselfe best knowes: but strangely visited people
+All swolne and Vlcerous, pittifull to the eye,
+The meere dispaire of Surgery, he cures,
+Hanging a golden stampe about their neckes,
+Put on with holy Prayers, and 'tis spoken
+To the succeeding Royalty he leaues
+The healing Benediction. With this strange vertue,
+He hath a heauenly guift of Prophesie,
+And sundry Blessings hang about his Throne,
+That speake him full of Grace.
+Enter Rosse.
+
+  Macd. See who comes heere
+
+   Malc. My Countryman: but yet I know him not
+
+   Macd. My euer gentle Cozen, welcome hither
+
+   Malc. I know him now. Good God betimes remoue
+The meanes that makes vs Strangers
+
+   Rosse. Sir, Amen
+
+   Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
+  Rosse. Alas poore Countrey,
+Almost affraid to know it selfe. It cannot
+Be call'd our Mother, but our Graue; where nothing
+But who knowes nothing, is once seene to smile:
+Where sighes, and groanes, and shrieks that rent the ayre
+Are made, not mark'd: Where violent sorrow seemes
+A Moderne extasie: The Deadmans knell,
+Is there scarse ask'd for who, and good mens liues
+Expire before the Flowers in their Caps,
+Dying, or ere they sicken
+
+   Macd. Oh Relation; too nice, and yet too true
+
+   Malc. What's the newest griefe?
+  Rosse. That of an houres age, doth hisse the speaker,
+Each minute teemes a new one
+
+   Macd. How do's my Wife?
+  Rosse. Why well
+
+   Macd. And all my Children?
+  Rosse. Well too
+
+   Macd. The Tyrant ha's not batter'd at their peace?
+  Rosse. No, they were wel at peace, when I did leaue 'em
+  Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: How gos't?
+  Rosse. When I came hither to transport the Tydings
+Which I haue heauily borne, there ran a Rumour
+Of many worthy Fellowes, that were out,
+Which was to my beleefe witnest the rather,
+For that I saw the Tyrants Power a-foot.
+Now is the time of helpe: your eye in Scotland
+Would create Soldiours, make our women fight,
+To doffe their dire distresses
+
+   Malc. Bee't their comfort
+We are comming thither: Gracious England hath
+Lent vs good Seyward, and ten thousand men,
+An older, and a better Souldier, none
+That Christendome giues out
+
+   Rosse. Would I could answer
+This comfort with the like. But I haue words
+That would be howl'd out in the desert ayre,
+Where hearing should not latch them
+
+   Macd. What concerne they,
+The generall cause, or is it a Fee-griefe
+Due to some single brest?
+  Rosse. No minde that's honest
+But in it shares some woe, though the maine part
+Pertaines to you alone
+
+   Macd. If it be mine
+Keepe it not from me, quickly let me haue it
+
+   Rosse. Let not your eares dispise my tongue for euer,
+Which shall possesse them with the heauiest sound
+that euer yet they heard
+
+   Macd. Humh: I guesse at it
+
+   Rosse. Your Castle is surpriz'd: your Wife, and Babes
+Sauagely slaughter'd: To relate the manner
+Were on the Quarry of these murther'd Deere
+To adde the death of you
+
+   Malc. Mercifull Heauen:
+What man, ne're pull your hat vpon your browes:
+Giue sorrow words; the griefe that do's not speake,
+Whispers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it breake
+
+   Macd. My Children too?
+  Ro. Wife, Children, Seruants, all that could be found
+
+   Macd. And I must be from thence? My wife kil'd too?
+  Rosse. I haue said
+
+   Malc. Be comforted.
+Let's make vs Med'cines of our great Reuenge,
+To cure this deadly greefe
+
+   Macd. He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones?
+Did you say All? Oh Hell-Kite! All?
+What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme
+At one fell swoope?
+  Malc. Dispute it like a man
+
+   Macd. I shall do so:
+But I must also feele it as a man;
+I cannot but remember such things were
+That were most precious to me: Did heauen looke on,
+And would not take their part? Sinfull Macduff,
+They were all strooke for thee: Naught that I am,
+Not for their owne demerits, but for mine
+Fell slaughter on their soules: Heauen rest them now
+
+   Mal. Be this the Whetstone of your sword, let griefe
+Conuert 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 Heauens,
+Cut short all intermission: Front to Front,
+Bring thou this Fiend of Scotland, and my selfe
+Within my Swords length set him, if he scape
+Heauen forgiue him too
+
+   Mal. This time goes manly:
+Come go we to the King, our Power is ready,
+Our lacke is nothing but our leaue. Macbeth
+Is ripe for shaking, and the Powres aboue
+Put on their Instruments: Receiue what cheere you may,
+The Night is long, that neuer findes the Day.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
+
+Enter a Doctor of Physicke, and a Wayting Gentlewoman.
+
+  Doct. I haue too Nights watch'd with you, but can
+perceiue no truth in your report. When was it shee last
+walk'd?
+  Gent. Since his Maiesty went into the Field, I haue
+seene her rise from her bed, throw her Night-Gown vppon
+her, vnlocke her Closset, take foorth paper, folde it,
+write vpon't, read it, afterwards Seale it, and againe returne
+to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleepe
+
+   Doct. A great perturbation in Nature, to receyue at
+once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching.
+In this slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other
+actuall performances, what (at any time) haue you heard
+her say?
+  Gent. That Sir, which I will not report after her
+
+   Doct. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you should
+
+   Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, hauing no witnesse
+to confirme my speech.
+Enter Lady, with a Taper.
+
+Lo you, heere she comes: This is her very guise, and vpon
+my life fast asleepe: obserue her, stand close
+
+   Doct. How came she by that light?
+  Gent. Why it stood by her: she ha's light by her continually,
+'tis her command
+
+   Doct. You see her eyes are open
+
+   Gent. I, but their sense are shut
+
+   Doct. What is it she do's now?
+Looke how she rubbes her hands
+
+   Gent. It is an accustom'd action with her, to seeme
+thus washing her hands: I haue knowne her continue in
+this a quarter of an houre
+
+   Lad. Yet heere's a spot
+
+   Doct. Heark, she speaks, I will set downe what comes
+from her, to satisfie my remembrance the more strongly
+
+   La. Out damned spot: out I say. One: Two: Why
+then 'tis time to doo't: Hell is murky. Fye, my Lord, fie,
+a Souldier, and affear'd? what need we feare? who knowes
+it, when none can call our powre to accompt: yet who
+would haue thought the olde man to haue had so much
+blood in him
+
+   Doct. Do you marke that?
+  Lad. The Thane of Fife, had a wife: where is she now?
+What will these hands ne're be cleane? No more o'that
+my Lord, no more o'that: you marre all with this starting
+
+   Doct. Go too, go too:
+You haue knowne what you should not
+
+   Gent. She ha's spoke what shee should not, I am sure
+of that: Heauen knowes what she ha's knowne
+
+   La. Heere's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes
+of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
+Oh, oh, oh
+
+   Doct. What a sigh is there? The hart is sorely charg'd
+
+   Gent. I would not haue such a heart in my bosome,
+for the dignity of the whole body
+
+   Doct. Well, well, well
+
+   Gent. Pray God it be sir
+
+   Doct. This disease is beyond my practise: yet I haue
+knowne those which haue walkt in their sleep, who haue
+dyed holily in their beds
+
+   Lad. Wash your hands, put on your Night-Gowne,
+looke not so pale: I tell you yet againe Banquo's buried;
+he cannot come out on's graue
+
+   Doct. Euen so?
+  Lady. To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate:
+Come, come, come, come, giue me your hand: What's
+done, cannot be vndone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
+
+Exit Lady.
+
+  Doct. Will she go now to bed?
+  Gent. Directly
+
+   Doct. Foule whisp'rings are abroad: vnnaturall deeds
+Do breed vnnaturall troubles: infected mindes
+To their deafe pillowes will discharge their Secrets:
+More needs she the Diuine, then the Physitian:
+God, God forgiue vs all. Looke after her,
+Remoue from her the meanes of all annoyance,
+And still keepe eyes vpon her: So goodnight,
+My minde she ha's mated, and amaz'd my sight.
+I thinke, but dare not speake
+
+   Gent. Good night good Doctor.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+Scena Secunda.
+
+Drum and Colours. Enter Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, Lenox,
+Soldiers.
+
+  Ment. The English powre is neere, led on by Malcolm,
+His Vnkle Seyward, and the good Macduff.
+Reuenges burne in them: for their deere causes
+Would to the bleeding, and the grim Alarme
+Excite the mortified man
+
+   Ang. Neere Byrnan wood
+Shall we well meet them, that way are they comming
+
+   Cath. Who knowes if Donalbane be with his brother?
+  Len. For certaine Sir, he is not: I haue a File
+Of all the Gentry; there is Seywards Sonne,
+And many vnruffe youths, that euen now
+Protest their first of Manhood
+
+   Ment. What do's the Tyrant
+
+   Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly Fortifies:
+Some say hee's mad: Others, that lesser hate him,
+Do call it valiant Fury, but for certaine
+He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
+Within the belt of Rule
+
+   Ang. Now do's he feele
+His secret Murthers sticking on his hands,
+Now minutely Reuolts vpbraid his Faith-breach:
+Those he commands, moue onely in command,
+Nothing in loue: Now do's he feele his Title
+Hang loose about him, like a Giants Robe
+Vpon a dwarfish Theefe
+
+   Ment. Who then shall blame
+His pester'd Senses to recoyle, and start,
+When all that is within him, do's condemne
+It selfe, for being there
+
+   Cath. Well, march we on,
+To giue Obedience, where 'tis truly ow'd:
+Meet we the Med'cine of the sickly Weale,
+And with him poure we in our Countries purge,
+Each drop of vs
+
+   Lenox. Or so much as it needes,
+To dew the Soueraigne Flower, and drowne the Weeds:
+Make we our March towards Birnan.
+
+Exeunt. marching.
+
+
+Scaena Tertia.
+
+Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.
+
+  Macb. Bring me no more Reports, let them flye all:
+Till Byrnane wood remoue to Dunsinane,
+I cannot taint with Feare. What's the Boy Malcolme?
+Was he not borne of woman? The Spirits that know
+All mortall Consequences, haue pronounc'd me thus:
+Feare not Macbeth, no man that's borne of woman
+Shall ere haue power vpon thee. Then fly false Thanes,
+And mingle with the English Epicures,
+The minde I sway by, and the heart I beare,
+Shall neuer sagge with doubt, nor shake with feare.
+Enter Seruant.
+
+The diuell damne thee blacke, thou cream-fac'd Loone:
+Where got'st thou that Goose-looke
+
+   Ser. There is ten thousand
+
+   Macb. Geese Villaine?
+  Ser. Souldiers Sir
+
+   Macb. Go pricke thy face, and ouer-red thy feare
+Thou Lilly-liuer'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch?
+Death of thy Soule, those Linnen cheekes of thine
+Are Counsailers to feare. What Soldiers Whay-face?
+  Ser. The English Force, so please you
+
+   Macb. Take thy face hence. Seyton, I am sick at hart,
+When I behold: Seyton, I say, this push
+Will cheere me euer, or dis-eate me now.
+I haue liu'd long enough: my way of life
+Is falne into the Seare, the yellow Leafe,
+And that which should accompany Old-Age,
+As Honor, Loue, Obedience, Troopes of Friends,
+I must not looke to haue: but in their steed,
+Curses, not lowd but deepe, Mouth-honor, breath
+Which the poore heart would faine deny, and dare not.
+Seyton?
+Enter Seyton.
+
+  Sey. What's your gracious pleasure?
+  Macb. What Newes more?
+  Sey. All is confirm'd my Lord, which was reported
+
+   Macb. Ile fight, till from my bones, my flesh be hackt.
+Giue me my Armor
+
+   Seyt. 'Tis not needed yet
+
+   Macb. Ile put it on:
+Send out moe Horses, skirre the Country round,
+Hang those that talke of Feare. Giue me mine Armor:
+How do's your Patient, Doctor?
+  Doct. Not so sicke my Lord,
+As she is troubled with thicke-comming Fancies
+That keepe her from her rest
+
+   Macb. Cure of that:
+Can'st thou not Minister to a minde diseas'd,
+Plucke from the Memory a rooted Sorrow,
+Raze out the written troubles of the Braine,
+And with some sweet Obliuious Antidote
+Cleanse the stufft bosome, of that perillous stuffe
+Which weighes vpon the heart?
+  Doct. Therein the Patient
+Must minister to himselfe
+
+   Macb. Throw Physicke to the Dogs, Ile none of it.
+Come, put mine Armour on: giue me my Staffe:
+Seyton, send out: Doctor, the Thanes flye from me:
+Come sir, dispatch. If thou could'st Doctor, cast
+The Water of my Land, finde her Disease,
+And purge it to a sound and pristine Health,
+I would applaud thee to the very Eccho,
+That should applaud againe. Pull't off I say,
+What Rubarb, Cyme, or what Purgatiue drugge
+Would scowre these English hence: hear'st y of them?
+  Doct. I my good Lord: your Royall Preparation
+Makes vs heare something
+
+   Macb. Bring it after me:
+I will not be affraid of Death and Bane,
+Till Birnane Forrest come to Dunsinane
+
+   Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away, and cleere,
+Profit againe should hardly draw me heere.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Scena Quarta.
+
+Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
+Seywards Sonne,
+Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, and Soldiers Marching.
+
+  Malc. Cosins, I hope the dayes are neere at hand
+That Chambers will be safe
+
+   Ment. We doubt it nothing
+
+   Seyw. What wood is this before vs?
+  Ment. The wood of Birnane
+
+   Malc. Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough,
+And bear't before him, thereby shall we shadow
+The numbers of our Hoast, and make discouery
+Erre in report of vs
+
+   Sold. It shall be done
+
+   Syw. We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant
+Keepes still in Dunsinane, and will indure
+Our setting downe befor't
+
+   Malc. 'Tis his maine hope:
+For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
+Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
+And none serue with him, but constrained things,
+Whose hearts are absent too
+
+   Macd. Let our iust Censures
+Attend the true euent, and put we on
+Industrious Souldiership
+
+   Sey. The time approaches,
+That will with due decision make vs know
+What we shall say we haue, and what we owe:
+Thoughts speculatiue, their vnsure hopes relate,
+But certaine issue, stroakes must arbitrate,
+Towards which, aduance the warre.
+
+Exeunt. marching
+
+Scena Quinta.
+
+Enter Macbeth, Seyton, & Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.
+
+  Macb. Hang out our Banners on the outward walls,
+The Cry is still, they come: our Castles strength
+Will laugh a Siedge to scorne: Heere let them lye,
+Till Famine and the Ague eate them vp:
+Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
+We might haue met them darefull, beard to beard,
+And beate them backward home. What is that noyse?
+
+A Cry within of Women.
+
+  Sey. It is the cry of women, my good Lord
+
+   Macb. I haue almost forgot the taste of Feares:
+The time ha's beene, my sences would haue cool'd
+To heare a Night-shrieke, and my Fell of haire
+Would at a dismall Treatise rowze, and stirre
+As life were in't. I haue supt full with horrors,
+Direnesse familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
+Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry?
+  Sey. The Queene (my Lord) is dead
+
+   Macb. She should haue dy'de heereafter;
+There would haue beene a time for such a word:
+To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow,
+Creepes in this petty pace from day to day,
+To the last Syllable of Recorded time:
+And all our yesterdayes, haue lighted Fooles
+The way to dusty death. Out, out, breefe Candle,
+Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player,
+That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage,
+And then is heard no more. It is a Tale
+Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury
+Signifying nothing.
+Enter a Messenger.
+
+Thou com'st to vse thy Tongue: thy Story quickly
+
+   Mes. Gracious my Lord,
+I should report that which I say I saw,
+But know not how to doo't
+
+   Macb. Well, say sir
+
+   Mes. As I did stand my watch vpon the Hill
+I look'd toward Byrnane, and anon me thought
+The Wood began to moue
+
+   Macb. Lyar, and Slaue
+
+   Mes. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
+Within this three Mile may you see it comming.
+I say, a mouing Groue
+
+   Macb. If thou speak'st false,
+Vpon the next Tree shall thou hang aliue
+Till Famine cling thee: If thy speech be sooth,
+I care not if thou dost for me as much.
+I pull in Resolution, and begin
+To doubt th' Equiuocation of the Fiend,
+That lies like truth. Feare not, till Byrnane Wood
+Do come to Dunsinane, and now a Wood
+Comes toward Dunsinane. Arme, Arme, and out,
+If this which he auouches, do's appeare,
+There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
+I 'ginne to be a-weary of the Sun,
+And wish th' estate o'th' world were now vndon.
+Ring the Alarum Bell, blow Winde, come wracke,
+At least wee'l dye with Harnesse on our backe.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Scena Sexta.
+
+Drumme and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe, and
+their Army,
+with Boughes.
+
+  Mal. Now neere enough:
+Your leauy Skreenes throw downe,
+And shew like those you are: You (worthy Vnkle)
+Shall with my Cosin your right Noble Sonne
+Leade our first Battell. Worthy Macduffe, and wee
+Shall take vpon's what else remaines to do,
+According to our order
+
+   Sey. Fare you well:
+Do we but finde the Tyrants power to night,
+Let vs be beaten, if we cannot fight
+
+   Macd. Make all our Trumpets speak, giue the[m] all breath
+Those clamorous Harbingers of Blood, & Death.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+Alarums continued.
+
+
+Scena Septima.
+
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+  Macb. They haue tied me to a stake, I cannot flye,
+But Beare-like I must fight the course. What's he
+That was not borne of Woman? Such a one
+Am I to feare, or none.
+Enter young Seyward.
+
+  Y.Sey. What is thy name?
+  Macb. Thou'lt be affraid to heare it
+
+   Y.Sey. No: though thou call'st thy selfe a hoter name
+Then any is in hell
+
+   Macb. My name's Macbeth
+
+   Y.Sey. The diuell himselfe could not pronounce a Title
+More hatefull to mine eare
+
+   Macb. No: nor more fearefull
+
+   Y.Sey. Thou lyest abhorred Tyrant, with my Sword
+Ile proue the lye thou speak'st.
+
+Fight, and young Seyward slaine.
+
+  Macb. Thou was't borne of woman;
+But Swords I smile at, Weapons laugh to scorne,
+Brandish'd by man that's of a Woman borne.
+Enter.
+
+Alarums. Enter Macduffe.
+
+  Macd. That way the noise is: Tyrant shew thy face,
+If thou beest slaine, and with no stroake of mine,
+My Wife and Childrens Ghosts will haunt me still:
+I cannot strike at wretched Kernes, whose armes
+Are hyr'd to beare their Staues; either thou Macbeth,
+Or else my Sword with an vnbattered edge
+I sheath againe vndeeded. There thou should'st be,
+By this great clatter, one of greatest note
+Seemes bruited. Let me finde him Fortune,
+And more I begge not.
+
+Exit. Alarums.
+
+Enter Malcolme and Seyward.
+
+  Sey. This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred:
+The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight,
+The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre,
+The day almost it selfe professes yours,
+And little is to do
+
+   Malc. We haue met with Foes
+That strike beside vs
+
+   Sey. Enter Sir, the Castle.
+
+Exeunt. Alarum
+
+Enter Macbeth.
+
+  Macb. Why should I play the Roman Foole, and dye
+On mine owne sword? whiles I see liues, the gashes
+Do better vpon them.
+Enter Macduffe.
+
+  Macd. Turne Hell-hound, turne
+
+   Macb. Of all men else I haue auoyded thee:
+But get thee backe, my soule is too much charg'd
+With blood of thine already
+
+   Macd. I haue no words,
+My voice is in my Sword, thou bloodier Villaine
+Then tearmes can giue thee out.
+
+Fight: Alarum
+
+  Macb. Thou loosest labour
+As easie may'st thou the intrenchant Ayre
+With thy keene Sword impresse, as make me bleed:
+Let fall thy blade on vulnerable Crests,
+I beare a charmed Life, which must not yeeld
+To one of woman borne
+
+   Macd. Dispaire thy Charme,
+And let the Angell whom thou still hast seru'd
+Tell thee, Macduffe was from his Mothers womb
+Vntimely ript
+
+   Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tels mee so;
+For it hath Cow'd my better part of man:
+And be these Iugling Fiends no more beleeu'd,
+That palter with vs in a double sence,
+That keepe the word of promise to our eare,
+And breake it to our hope. Ile not fight with thee
+
+   Macd. Then yeeld thee Coward,
+And liue to be the shew, and gaze o'th' time.
+Wee'l haue thee, as our rarer Monsters are
+Painted vpon a pole, and vnder-writ,
+Heere may you see the Tyrant
+
+   Macb. I will not yeeld
+To kisse the ground before young Malcolmes feet,
+And to be baited with the Rabbles curse.
+Though Byrnane wood be come to Dunsinane,
+And thou oppos'd, being of no woman borne,
+Yet I will try the last. Before my body,
+I throw my warlike Shield: Lay on Macduffe,
+And damn'd be him, that first cries hold, enough.
+
+Exeunt. fighting. Alarums.
+
+Enter Fighting, and Macbeth slaine.
+
+Retreat, and Flourish. Enter with Drumme and Colours, Malcolm,
+Seyward,
+Rosse, Thanes, & Soldiers.
+
+  Mal. I would the Friends we misse, were safe arriu'd
+
+   Sey. Some must go off: and yet by these I see,
+So great a day as this is cheapely bought
+
+   Mal. Macduffe is missing, and your Noble Sonne
+
+   Rosse. Your son my Lord, ha's paid a souldiers debt,
+He onely liu'd but till he was a man,
+The which no sooner had his Prowesse confirm'd
+In the vnshrinking station where he fought,
+But like a man he dy'de
+
+   Sey. Then he is dead?
+  Rosse. I, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
+Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
+It hath no end
+
+   Sey. Had he his hurts before?
+  Rosse. I, on the Front
+
+   Sey. Why then, Gods Soldier be he:
+Had I as many Sonnes, as I haue haires,
+I would not wish them to a fairer death:
+And so his Knell is knoll'd
+
+   Mal. Hee's worth more sorrow,
+and that Ile spend for him
+
+   Sey. He's worth no more,
+They say he parted well, and paid his score,
+And so God be with him. Here comes newer comfort.
+Enter Macduffe, with Macbeths head.
+
+  Macd. Haile King, for so thou art.
+Behold where stands
+Th' Vsurpers cursed head: the time is free:
+I see thee compast with thy Kingdomes Pearle,
+That speake my salutation in their minds:
+Whose voyces I desire alowd with mine.
+Haile King of Scotland
+
+   All. Haile King of Scotland.
+
+Flourish.
+
+  Mal. We shall not spend a large expence of time,
+Before we reckon with your seuerall loues,
+And make vs euen with you. My Thanes and Kinsmen
+Henceforth be Earles, the first that euer Scotland
+In such an Honor nam'd: What's more to do,
+Which would be planted newly with the time,
+As calling home our exil'd Friends abroad,
+That fled the Snares of watchfull Tyranny,
+Producing forth the cruell Ministers
+Of this dead Butcher, and his Fiend-like Queene;
+Who (as 'tis thought) by selfe and violent hands,
+Tooke off her life. This, and what need full else
+That call's vpon vs, by the Grace of Grace,
+We will performe in measure, time, and place:
+So thankes to all at once, and to each one,
+Whom we inuite, to see vs Crown'd at Scone.
+
+Flourish. Exeunt Omnes.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2264 ***