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Mac: As I descended?
Mac: Hark! Who lies I’ th’ second chamber?
Mac: This is a sorry sight.
LM: A foolish thought to say a sorry sight.
There’s one did laugh in’s sleep, and one cried “Murder!” That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them.
But they did say their prayers and addressed the Again to sleep.
LM: There are two lodged together.
One cried “God bless us” and “Amen” the other, As they had seen me with those hangman’s hands.
List’ning their fear, I could not say “Amen” When they did say “God bless us.” LM: Consider it not so deeply.
But wherefore could I not pronounce “Amen”?
I had most need of blessing, and “Amen” Stuck in my throat.
Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep”-the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, Chief nourisher in life’s feast.
Still it cried “sleep no more!” to all the house;
“Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more.”
Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
See daggers. Break pose and run to SL side of Mac still on US step on “Why did you bring…” Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: go carry them and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.
Those of his chamber, as it seemed, had done’t.
Their hands and faces were all badged with blood;
So were their daggers, which unwiped we found Upon their pillows. They stared and were distracted.
No man’s life was to be trusted with them.
Malcolm: Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours?
What should be spoken here, Where our fate, hid in auger hole,
May rush and seize us? Let’s away:
Our tears are not yet brewed.
Ay, my good lord.
We should have else desired your good advice, Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
Is't far you ride?
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain.
Fail not our feast.
My lord, I will not.
We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd Move fingers of right hand onto wedding ring. Look quickly at thanes standing on SR concrete.
In England and in Ireland, not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, When therewithal we shall have cause of state Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
It was, so please your highness.
Mac: Well then, now Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know That it was he in the times past which held you So under fortune, which you thought had been Our innocent self: this I made good to you In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, How you were borne in hand, how cross'd,the instruments, Who wrought with them, and all things else that might To half a soul and to a notion crazed Say 'Thus did Banquo.'
First Murderer:You made it known to us.
I did so, and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd To pray for this good man and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave And beggar'd yours for ever?
We are men, my liege.
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water- rugs and demi-wolves, are clept Keep holding until… All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive Particular addition. from the bill That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file, Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't;
And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off, Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but sickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect.
Second Murderer: I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
First Murderer: And I another So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my lie on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on't.
True, my lord.
So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near'st of life: and though I could With barefaced power sweep him from my sight And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, That I to your assistance do make love, Masking the business from the common eye For sundry weighty reasons.
Second Murderer: We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us.
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She’ll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.
Treason has done his worst: nor steel nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Follow Mac’s cross in front of me above the audience—turn head first to the right… Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Thanks to your majesty.
Ourself will mingle with society And play the humble host. Start to stand, pause with one foot on floor and other still folded under me when Mac Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time says, “Our hostess…” We will require her welcome.
Mac: Thou art the best o’ th’ cutthroats.
Yet he’s good that did the like for Fleance:
If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.
Most royal, sir, Fleance scaped.
Then comes my fit again. I had else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casting air.
But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo’s safe?
Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head, The least a death to nature.
Blood hath been shed ere now, I’ th’ olden time, Ere humane statue purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed Too terrible for the ear. The time has been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end. But now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools. This is more strange Than such a murder is.
Standing center, raise glass to Mac standing SL.
LM: My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you.
Mac: Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer’s cloud Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks When mine is blanched with fear.
Mac: Start slowly sinking down and back against the leg.
I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There’s not a one of them but in this house I keep a servant fee’d. I will tomorrow, And betimes I will, to the weird sisters.
More shall they speak, for now I am bent to know By the worst means the worst. For mine own good All causes shall give way. I am in blood Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er.
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand, Reach the lowest point—knees not quite 90º, almost sitting on air—by “Strange things…” Which must be acted ere they may be scanned.
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone Days and nights has thirty-one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witches' mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, Liver of blaspheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of yew Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, Still lying there—very dead.
Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For the ingredients of our cauldron.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.
O well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i' the gains;
And now about the cauldron sing,
I conjure you, by that which you profess,
Howe'er you come to know it, answer me:
Though you untie the winds and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down;
Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure Of nature's germens tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken; answer me To what I ask you.
First Witch: Speak.
Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth.
Drop back down to “dead” pose.
Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, And sleep in spite of thunder.
What is this That rises like the issue of a king, And wears upon his baby-brow the round And top of sovereignty?
Listen, but speak not to't.
I will be satisfied: deny me this, And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
First Witch: Show!
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? Still lying there—totally “dead.” Lie dead through entirety of next scene. Lie dead until…
Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: