Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock; never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking within.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate. Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX.

MACD. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?

PORT. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.

:

MACD. What three things does drink especially provoke ?

PORT. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance: therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery; it makes him, and it mars him ; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

MACD. I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

PORT. That it did, sir, i' the very throat on me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him. MACD. Is thy master stirring?

Enter MACBETH.

Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. LEN. Good morrow, noble sir.

Good morrow,

both.

MACB.
MACD. Is the king stirring, worthy thane ?
МАСВ.

Not yet.

MACD. He did command me to call timely on him:

I have almost slipp'd the hour.

МАСВ.

I'll bring you to him.

MACD. I know this is a joyful trouble to you;

But yet 'tis one.

MACB. The labour we delight in physics pain. This is the door.

MACD.

I'll make so bold to call,

[Exit.

For 'tis my limited service.

LEN. Goes the king hence to-day?
МАСВ.

He does: he did appoint so.

LEN. The night has been unruly: where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, Lamentings heard i̇' the air; strange screams of death,

And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustion and confused events

New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth Was feverous and did shake.

МАСВ.

'Twas a rough night.

LEN. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.

Re-enter MACDUFF.

MACD. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor

Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope

The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building!

МАСВ.

What is 't you say? the life?

LEN. Mean you his majesty?

MACD. Approach the chamber, and destroy your

sight

With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak;

See, and then speak yourselves.

[Exeunt MACBETH and Lennox.
Awake, awake!

Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself! up, up, and see
The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,

To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.

Enter LADY MACBETH.

LADY M. What's the business,

[Bell rings.

That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!

O gentle lady,

MACD. 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear,

Would murder as it fell.

Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with Ross.

MACB. Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality:

All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN.

DON. What is amiss?

MACB.

You are, and do not know 't:

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.

MACD. Your royal father's murder'd.

MAL.

O, by whom?

LEN. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, 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.

MACB. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them.

MACD.

Wherefore did you so?

MACB. Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and

furious,

Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love

Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart

Courage to make's love known?

LADY M.

MACD. Look to the lady.

Help me hence, ho!

MAL. [Aside to DoN.] Why do we hold our

tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours? DON. [Aside to MAL.] What should be spoken here, where our fate,