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Made to his miftrefs' eye-brow. Then a foldier:
Full of ftrange baths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, fudden, and quick in quarrel;
Seeking the bubble reputation,

age fhifts

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the juftice,
In fair round belly, with good capon lin❜d,
With eyes fevere, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wife faws and modern inftances;
And fo he plays his part. The fixth
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With fpectacles on nofe, and pouch on fide;
His youthful hose well fav'd, a world too wide
For his fhrunk fhank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whiftles in his found. Laft fcene of all,
That ends this ftrange eventful history,

Is fecond childishnefs, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing.
Enter Orlando, with Adam.

Duke Sen. Welcome. Set down your venerable burden, And let him feed.

Orla. I thank you most for him.

Adam. So had you need.

I fcarce can speak to thank you for myself.

Duke Sen. Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble you, As yet to question you about your fortunes.

Give us fame mufic; and, good coufin, fing.

No. IV. MACBETH.

ACT II. SCENE 11.

MACBETH.

Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,

She ftrike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.

Is this a dagger which I fee before me,

[Exit Serv.

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.

I have thee not, and yet I fee thee ftill.
Art thou not, fatal vifion, fenfible
To feeling as to fight? or art thou but

A dagger

A dagger of the mind, a falfe creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppreffed brain?
I fee thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.-

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

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other fenfes,
Or else worth all the reft-I fee thee ftill;
And on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts of blood,
Which was not fo before.-There's no fuch thing.-
It is the bloody bufinefs, which informs

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

Whofe howl's his watch, thus with his ftealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing ftrides, towards his defign
Moves like a ghoft.-Thou found and firm-fet earth,
Hear not my teps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very ftones prate of my where-about;
And take the prefent horror from the time,
Which now fuits with it.-Whilft I threat, he lives→→
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
go, and it is done; the bell invites-me ::

I

Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell

'That fummons thee to heaven, or to hell..

Enter Lady Macbeth.

A bell ring.

[Exi

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

bold;

What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire. Hark! peace!
It was the owl that fhriek'd, the fatal bell-man,
Which gives the ftern'ft good-night-he is about it-
The doors are open; and the furfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with fnores. I've drugg'd their poffe,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.

Enter Macbeth.

whatsho!:

Lady

Mach. Who's there?

Lady. Alack! I'm afraid, they have awak'd;
And 'tis not done. The attempt, and not the deed,.
Confounds us-hark!-I laid their daggers ready,
He could not mifs 'em.-Had he not resembled:
My father as he flept, I had done't-My husband'!
Macb. Fue done the deed-didst thou not hear a noise
Lady. I heard the owl fcream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now.

Macb. As I defcended?

Lady. Ay.

Macb. Hark!—who lies P the second chamber ?

Lady. Donalbain.

Mach. This is a forry fight.

[Looks on his hands.

Lady. A foolish thought, to fay, a forry fight.

Macb. There's one did laugh in his fleep, and one cry'd,

Murther!

They wak'd each other; and I ftood and heard them;
But they did fay their prayers, and address'd them
Again to fleep.

Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Mach. One cry'd, God bless us! and Amen! the other; As they had feen me with thefe hangman's hands, Listening their fear, I could not fay, Amen,

When they did fay, God bless us.

Lady. Confider it not fo deeply.

Mach. But wherefore could I not pronounce, Amen? I had moft need of bleffing, and Amen

Stuck in my throat.

Lady. Thefe deeds muft not be thought, After thefe ways; fo it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth doth muxther fleep; the innocent fleep; Sleep that knits up the ravell'd fleeve of care, The death of each day's life, fore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's fecond course, Chief nourisher in life's feaft.

Lady. What do you mean?

Macb. Still it cry'd, fleep no more, to all the houfe: Glamis hath murther'd fleep. And therefore Cawdor

Shall

Shall fleep no more; Macbeth hall fleep no more!
Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? Why, worthy Than
You do unbend your noble ftrength, to think
So brain-fickly of things. Go, get fome water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
Why did you bring thefe daggers from the place?
They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear
The fleepy grooms with blood.

Macb. I'll go no more.

I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpose ;

Give me the daggers. The fleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

For it must seem their gullt.

Knocks within.

Mach. Whence is that knocking!

How is it with me, when every noife appals me?

[Exit

[Starting

What hands are here? Hah! they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous feas incarnardine,

Making the green one red

Enter Lady.

Lady. My hands are of your colour; but I fhame
To wear a heart fo white; I hear a knocking
At the fouth entry. Retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed.

How easy is it then! Your conftancy

[Knock

Hath left you unattended-Hark, more knocking! [Kn
Get on your night-gown, left occafion call us,
And fhew us to be watchers. Be not loft

So poorly in your thoughts.

Macb. To know my deed, 'twere beft not know myself. Wake, Duncan, with this knocking. Would thou couldt!

[Exeunt.

ACT

N°. V.-MACBETH.

CT III. SCENE IV. A Room of State in the Castle. Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe, Lords, and Attendants.

MACBETH.

OU know your own degrees, fit down: first and last, the hearty welcome. Lords. Thanks to your Majefty.

Macb. Our felf will mingle with fociety,

d play the humble hoft;

r hoftefs keeps her ftate, but in beft time t

e will require her welcome.

[They fit.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends;

r my heart speaks, they're welcome.

Enter firft Murtherer.

Mach. See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks. oth fides are even. Here I'll fit i' the midft.

e large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure he table round. There's blood upon thy face.

[To the Murtherer, afide, at the door. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Mach. 'Tis better thee without,, than he within.

he dispatch'd?

Mur. My Lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Macb. Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet

hat did the like for Fleance; if thou didst it,

Chou art the non-pareil.

Mur. Moft royal Sir,

Fleance is fcap'd.

he's good,

Macb. Then comes my fit again: I had elfe been perfect; Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,

As broad, and general, as the cafing air:

But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in

To faucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's fafe?-
Mur. Ay, my good Lord. Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head :

The leaft a death to Nature.

e

Mack.

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