Chapter XXIV: Act II: Scene I

MACBETH. Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee-- I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from a heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going, And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still; And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood, Which was not so before,--There's no such thing: It is the bloody business, which informs Thus to mine eyes.--Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep: witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings: and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, toward his design Moves like a ghost.--Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear The very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.--Whilst I threat, he lives: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[_A bell rings_.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. [_Exit_.

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SCENE II.--_The same._

_Enter Lady Macbeth._

LADY M. 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 shriek'd, The fatal bellman which gives the stern'st good night. He is about it: The doors are open; And the surfeited grooms do mock their charge with snores: I have drugged their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live, or die.

MACB. [_Within,_] Who's there?--what, hoa!

LADY M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, And 'tis not done:--the attempt, and not the deed, Confound us:--Hark!--I laid their daggers ready, He could not miss them.--Had he not resembled My father as he slept I had done't--My husband!

_Enter Macbeth._

MACB. I have done the deed:--Didst thou not hear a noise?--

LADY M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did you not speak? MACB. When?

LADY M. Now.

MACB. As I descended?

LADY M. Ay. MACB. Hark!--
Who lies i' the second chamber?

LADY M. Donalbain.

MACB. This is a sorry sight. [_Looking on his hands._

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

MACB. There's one did laugh in his sleep, And one cried "murther!" that they did wake each other; I stood and heard them: but they did say their prayers, And address'd them again to sleep.

LADY M. There are two lodg'd together.

MACB. One cried, "God bless us!" and "Amen," the other; As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say, "Amen," When they did say, God bless us.

LADY M. Consider it not so deeply.

MACB. But wherefore could I not pronounce, "Amen?" I had most need of blessing, and "Amen" Stuck in my throat.

LADY M. These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

MACB. Methought, I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murther sleep,"--the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.

LADY M. What do you mean?

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

LADY M. 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.-- Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go, carry them; and smear The sleepy 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 M. Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers; the sleeping, 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 guilt.

[_Exit. Knocking within._

MACB. Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha! 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 seas incarnardine, Making the green one red.

_Re-enter Lady Macbeth._

LADY M. My hands are of your colour; but I shame To wear a heart so white. [_Knock_.] I hear a knocking At the south entry:--retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed; How easy is it then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended.--[_Knocking_.] Hark! more knocking: Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, And show us to be watchers:--Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.

MACB. To know my deed, 'twere best not to know myself.
[_Knocking_
Wake Duncan with thy knocking; I would thou could'st'
[_Exeunt._

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SLEEP-WALKING SCENE FROM MACBETH.