827See, and then speake your selues: awake, awake,

829Ring the Alarum Bell: Murther, and Treason,

830Banquo, and Donalbaine: Malcolme awake,

831Shake off this Downey sleepe, Deaths counterfeit,

832And looke on Death it selfe: vp, vp, and see

833The great Doomes Image: Malcolme, Banquo,

834As from your Graues rise vp, and walke like Sprights,

835To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.

837Lady. What's the Businesse?

838That such a hideous Trumpet calls to parley

839The sleepers of the House? speake, speake.

840Macd. O gentle Lady,

841'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake:

842The repetition in a Womans eare,

843Would murther as it fell.

845O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Master's murther'd.

846Lady. Woe, alas:

847What, in our House?

848Ban. Too cruell, any where.

849Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy selfe,

850And say, it is not so.

852Macb. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance,

853I had liu'd a blessed time: for from this instant,

854There's nothing serious in Mortalitie:

855All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead,

856The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees

857Is left this Vault, to brag of.

859Donal. What is amisse?

860Macb. You are, and doe not know't:

861The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood

862Is stopt, the very Source of it is stopt.

863Macd. Your Royall Father's murther'd.

864Mal. Oh, by whom?

865Lenox. Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:

866Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood,

867So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found

868Vpon their Pillowes: they star'd, and were distracted,

869No mans Life was to be trusted with them.

870Macb. O, yet I doe repent me of my furie,

871That I did kill them.

872Macd. Wherefore did you so?

873Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,

874Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man:

875Th'expedition of my violent Loue

876Out-run the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan,

877His Siluer skinne, lac'd with his Golden Blood,

878And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature,

879For Ruines wastfull entrance: there the Murtherers,

880Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers

881Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine,

882That had a heart to loue; and in that heart,

883Courage, to make's loue knowne?

884Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa.

885Macd. Looke to the Lady.

886Mal. Why doe we hold our tongues,

887That most may clayme this argument for ours?

888Donal. What should be spoken here,

889Where our Fate hid in an augure hole,

890May rush, and seize vs? Let's away,

891Our Teares are not yet brew'd.

892Mal. Nor our strong Sorrow

893Vpon the foot of Motion.

894Banq. Looke to the Lady:

895And when we haue our naked Frailties hid,

896That suffer in exposure; let vs meet,

897And question this most bloody piece of worke,

898To know it further. Feares and scruples shake vs:

899In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence,

900Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight

901Of Treasonous Mallice.

902Macd. And so doe I.

903All. So all.

904Macb. Let's briefely put on manly readinesse,

905And meet i'th'Hall together.

906All. Well contented. Exeunt.

907Malc. What will you doe?

908Let's not consort with them:

909To shew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office

910Which the false man do's easie.

911Ile to England.

912Don. To Ireland, I:

913Our seperated fortune shall keepe vs both the safer:

914Where we are, there's Daggers in mens Smiles;

915The neere in blood, the neerer bloody.

916Malc. This murtherous Shaft that's shot,

917Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way,

918Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horse,

919And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking,

920But shift away: there's warrant in that Theft,

921Which steales it selfe, when there's no mercie left.

925Old man. Threescore and ten I can remember well,

926Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene

927Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night

928Hath trifled former knowings.

929Rosse. Ha, good Father,

930Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act,

931Threatens his bloody Stage: byth'Clock 'tis Day,

932And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe:

933Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame,

934That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe,

935When liuing Light should kisse it?

936Old man. 'Tis vnnaturall,

937Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last,

938A Faulcon towring in her pride of place,

939Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd.

940Rosse. And Duncans Horses,

941(A thing most strange, and certaine)

942Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race,

943Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their stalls, flong out,

944Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would

945Make Warre with Mankinde.

946Old man. 'Tis said, they eate each other.

947Rosse. They did so: