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The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
What do you mean? Mac. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the
I'll go no more:
Infirm of purpose!
[Exit. Knocking within. HUMac.
Whence is that knocking! How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine
eyes ! With all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnardine,
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 knock
ing 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 watches:-Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. Mac. To know my deed,—-'twere best not know myself.
[Knock. Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Ay, 'would thou could'st!
Enter a Porter. [Knocking within. Port. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock: Who's there, ithe name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer, that hang’d himself on the expectation of plenty: Come in time; have napkins enough about you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking.) Knock, knock: Who's there, i'the other devils name? 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: 0), come in, equivocator. [Knocking.] 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 ] 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.] Anon, anon; I pray you, remember the porter.
[Opens the gate.
Enter Macduff and Lenor.
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 o’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 ?--
Len. Good-morrow, noble sir!
Macıl. He did command me to call timely on him; I have almost slipp'd the hour. Mac.
I'll bring you to him. Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet, 'tis one.
Mac. The labour we delight in, physicks pain. This is the door. Macd.
I'll make so bold to call,'111,1 For 'tis my limited service. " [Erit Macduff: Len.
Goes the king
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 i'the air; strange screams of
death; And prophecying, with accents terrible, Of dire combustion, and confus'd 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. Mac.
'Twas a rough night. Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.
Re-enter Macduff Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Tongue, nor
heart, Cannot conceive, nor name thee! Mac. & Len.
What's the matter? Macd. Confusion now hath made his master
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
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.-Awake! awake!
[Ereunt Macbeth and Lenor. 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