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Section: ACT II.  SCENE III.

                                                                                                                                                                                                

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ACT II.  SCENE III.


The same.


Enter a Porter. Knocking within.



  PORTER. Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of Hell

    Gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking within.]

    Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of Belzebub?

Here's

    a farmer that hanged himself on th' expectation of plenty.

Come

    in time! Have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat fort.

    [Knocking within.] Knock, knock! Who's there, in th' other

    devil's 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. 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.



  MACDUFF. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,

    That you do lie so late?


  PORTER. Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock; and

    drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.


  MACDUFF. What three things does drink especially provoke?


  PORTER. 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.


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


  PORTER. That it did, sir, i' the very throat on me; but

requited

    him for his lie, and, I think, being too strong for him,

though

    he took up my legs sometime, yet I made shift to cast him.


  MACDUFF. Is thy master stirring?


                             Enter Macbeth.


    Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.


  LENNOX. Good morrow, noble sir.


  MACBETH. morrow, both.


  MACDUFF. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?



  MACBETH. Not yet.


  MACDUFF. He did command me to call timely on him;

    I have almost slipp'd the hour.


  MACBETH. I'll bring you to him.



  MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you,

    But yet 'tis one.


  MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain.

    This is the door.

 

  MACDUFF I'll make so bold to call,

    For 'tis my limited service.                           Exit.


  LENNOX. Goes the King hence today?


  MACBETH. He does; he did appoint so.


  LENNOX. 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 prophesying with accents terrible

    Of dire combustion and confused events

    New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird

    Clamor'd the livelong night. Some say the earth

    Was feverous and did shake.


  MACBETH. 'Twas a rough fight.


  LENNOX. My young remembrance cannot parallel

    A fellow to it.


                      Re-enter Macduff.



  MACDUFF. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart

    Cannot conceive nor name thee.


  MACBETH. LENNOX. What's the matter?


  MACDUFF. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

    Most sacrilegious murther hath broke ope

    The Lord's anointed temple and stole thence

    The life o' the building.


  MACBETH. What is't you say? the life?


  LENNOX. Mean you his Majesty?


  MACDUFF. 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. Murther 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.       Bell rings.


                     Enter Lady Macbeth.



  LADY MACBETH. What's the business,

    That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley

    The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!


  MACDUFF. O gentle lady,

    'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:

    The repetition in a woman's ear

    Would murther as it fell.


                     Enter Banquo.


    O Banquo, Banquo!

    Our royal master's murther'd.


  LADY MACBETH. Woe, alas!

    What, in our house?


  BANQUO. Too cruel anywhere.

    Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,

    And say it is not so.


          Re-enter Macbeth and Lennox, with Ross.



  MACBETH. 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.



  DONALBAIN. What is amiss?


  MACBETH. You are, and do not know't.

    The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood

    Is stopped, the very source of it is stopp'd.

  MACDUFF. Your royal father's murther'd.



   MALCOLM. O, by whom?



  LENNOX. 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.


  MACBETH. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

    That I did kill them.


  MACDUFF. Wherefore did you so?


  MACBETH. 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 murtherers,

    Steep'd in the colors 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 MACBETH. Help me hence, ho!



  MACDUFF. Look to the lady.


  MALCOLM. [Aside to Donalbain.] Why do we hold our tongues,

    That most may claim this argument for ours?


  DONALBAIN. [Aside to Malcolm.] What should be spoken here,

where

      our fate,

    Hid in an auger hole, may rush and seize us?

    Let's away,

    Our tears are not yet brew'd.


  MALCOLM. [Aside to Donalbain.] Nor our strong sorrow

    Upon the foot of motion.


  BANQUO. Look to the lady.

                                    Lady Macbeth is carried out.

    And when we have our naked frailties hid,

    That suffer in exposure, let us meet

    And question this most bloody piece of work

    To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us.

    In the great hand of God I stand, and thence

    Against the undivulged pretense I fight

    Of treasonous malice.


  MACDUFF. And so do I.


  ALL. So all.


  MACBETH. Let's briefly put on manly readiness

    And meet i' the hall together.


  ALL. Well contented.

                           Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.


  MALCOLM. What will you do? Let's not consort with them.

    To show an unfelt sorrow is an office

    Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.


  DONALBAIN. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune

    Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are

    There's daggers in men's smiles; the near in blood,

    The nearer bloody.


  MALCOLM. This murtherous shaft that's shot

    Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way

    Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse;

    And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,

    But shift away. There's warrant in that theft

    Which steals itself when there's no mercy left.

                                                         Exeunt.




                                                                                                                                                                                                

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