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Scene I. — Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter a Physician and a waiting Gentlewoman.
I HAVE two nights watch'd with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walk'd?
Gentlewoman. Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
Doct. A great perturbation in nature, — to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumb'ry agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what at any time have you heard her say?
Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Doct. You may to me; and 'tis most meet you should.
Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witness to confirm my speech.
Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.
Lo you! here she comes. This is her very guise, and upon my life fast asleep. Observe her: stand close.
Doct. How came she by that light?
Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by hej continually; 'tis her command.
Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct. What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.
Gent. It is an accustom'd action with her to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady M. Yet here's a spot.
Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say ! — One; two: why, then 'tis time to do't. — Hell is murky!
— Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account ? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. The Thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now ? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean?
— No more o' that, my lord; no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
Doct. Go to, go to: you have known what you should not.
Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.
Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!
Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charg'd.
Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body. , Doct. Well, well, well, —
Gent. Pray God, it be, sir.
VOL. X. F P
Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walk'd in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale. — I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried: he cannot come out on 's grave.
Doct. Even so?
Lady M. To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone: to bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady Macbeth.
Doct. Will she go now to bed?
Doct. Foul whisp'rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician. — God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; Remove from her the means of all annoyance, And still keep eyes upon her. — So, good night: My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight. I think, but dare not speak.
Gent. Good night, good Doctor.
The Country near Dunsinane.
Enter, with drum and colours, Menteith, Cath
Ness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.
Menteith. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Angus. Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them: that way are they coming.
Cathness. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
Len. For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son, And many unrough youths, that even now Protest their first of manhood
Ment. What does the tyrant?
Oath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
Ang. Now does he feel
His secret murthers sticking on his hands;
Ment. Who, then, shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
Cath. Well; march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Len. Or so much as it needs
To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.
Enter Macbeth, Physician, and Attendants.
Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly
all: Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? Was he not born of woman? The spirits that
Enter a Servant.
The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?
Serv. Soldiers, sir
Macb. Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, wrhey-face? Serv. The English force, so please you.