Macbeth Lines - Lady Macbeth

Start of Act 1, Scene 5

They met me in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it came missives from the king, who all-hailed me “Thane of Cawdor,” by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to be the coming on of time with “Hail, King, that shalt be!” This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.

Me: They met me in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it came missives from the king, who all-hailed me “Thane of Cawdor,” by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to be the coming on of time with “Hail, King, that shalt be!” This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be what thou art promised. Yet do I fear they nature; it is too full of the milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great, art not without ambition, but without the illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, that wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play FALSE, and yet wouldst wrongly win. Hie thee hither, that I may pour my spirits in thine ear and chastise with the VALOR of my tongue all the impedes thee from the golden round, which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem to have thee crowned withal.   What is your tidings?

Servant: The king comes here tonight. 

Thou’rt made to say it. Is not thy master with him, who, were it so, would have informed for preparation?

Servant: So please you, it is true: our thane is coming, one of my fellows had the speed of him, who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more than would make up his message.

Give him tending. He brings great news.

Me: Give him tending. He brings great news.

The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements. Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe-top full of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my FELL purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it! Come, come thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark to cry hold, hold!

(on Macbeth’s entrance, Act 1, Scene 5)

Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor, greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter, they letters have transported me beyond this ignorant present and I feel now the future in the instant.

Macbeth: My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.

And when goes hence?

Macbeth: Tomorrow, as he purposes.

O’, never shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters. To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. He that’s coming must be provided for; and you shall put this night’s great business into my dispatch, which shall to all our nights and days to come give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

Macbeth: We will speak further.

Only look up clear. To alter favor ever is to fear. Leave all the rest to me.

Act 1, Scene 6: Duncan: See, see, our honored hostess! The love that follows us sometimes is our trouble, which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you how you shall bid God il’d us for your pains, and thank us for your trouble.

All our service, in every point twice done and then done double, were poor and single business to contend against those honors deep and broad wherewith your majesty loads our house.

Duncan: …Fair and noble hostess, we are your guest tonight.

Your servants ever.

Act 1, Scene 7: Macbeth: How now! What news?

He has almost supped. Why have you left the chamber?

Macbeth: Hath he asked for me?

Know you not he has?

Macbeth: We will proceed no further in this business. He hath honored me as of late, and I have golden opinions from all sorts of people, which could be worn now in their newest gloss, not cast aside so soon.

Was the hope drunk wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale at what it did so freely? From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valor as thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem’st in the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting I dare not wait upon I would let the poor cat in the adage?

Macbeth: Prithee, peace:  I dare do all that may become a man: who dares do more is none.

What beast was it then, that made you break this Enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man: and to be more than what you were, you be so much more the man. Nor time nor place did then adhere, and yet you would make both. They have made themselves, and that their fitness now does unmake you. I have given suck, and know how tender tis to love thee babe that milks me. I would, while it was smiling in my face, have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums and dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you have done to this.

Macbeth: If we should fail?

We fail? But screw your courage to the sticking place and we’ll not fail. When Duncan is asleep, whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey soundly invite him, his two chamberlains will I with win and wassail so convince that memory, the warder of the brain, shall be a fume. when in swinish sleep their drenched natures lie as in a death, what cannot you and I perform upon the unguarded Duncan? What not put upon his spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt of our great quell?

Macbeth: Bring forth male children only…of his own chamber used their very daggers, that they have done it?

Who dares receive it other, as we shall make our griefs and clamor roar upon his death?

Start of Act 2. Scene 2

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold. What hath quenched them hath given me fire. Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shrieked, 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 them, whether they live or die.

Macbeth: WHo’s there? What, ho!

Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, and tis not done. The attempt and not the deed confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; he could not miss’em. Had he not resembled my father as he slept, I had done it. 

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

I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did you not speak?

Macbeth: When?

Now.

Macbeth: As I descended?

Ay.

Macbeth: Hark! Who lies in the second chamber?

Donalbain.

Macbeth: This is a sorry sight.

A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

Macbeth: There’s one did cry out in his sleep, and one cried. “Murder!” That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them. But they did say their prayers,and addressed them again to sleep.

There are two lodged together.

Macbeth:….When they did say God bless us!

Consider it not so deeply.

Macbeth: ..I had most need of blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat.

These deeds must not be thought after these ways. So, it will make us mad.

Macbeth: Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep”—the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.

What do you mean?

Macbeth: Still it cried “Sleep no more!” to all the house.
“Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore
Cawdor
Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more.”

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.

Macbeth: I’ll go no more.
I am afraid to think what I have done.
Look on ’t again I dare not.

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.

Macbeth: 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 blood75Clean from my hand?

My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white. 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. 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.

Act 2, Scene 3: Macduff: …To countenance this horror! Ring the bell!

What’s the business, that such a hideous trumpet calls to parley the sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!

O banquo, banquo, our royal master’s been murdered!

Woe, alas! What, in our house?`

Macbeth: …That had a heart to love, and in that heart courage to make’s love known?

Help me hence, ho!

Act 3, Scene 1: Macbeth: Here’s our chief guest. 

If he had been forgotten, it had been as a gap in our great feast, and all-thing unbecoming

Start of Act 3, Scene 2

Is Banquo gone from court?

Servant: Ay, madam, but returns tonight.

Say to the king I would like to attend his leisure for a few words.

Servant: Madam, I will.

Naught’s had, all’s spent, where our desire is got without content. Tis safer to be that which we destroy than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. (Macbeth enters) How now, my lord! Why do you keep alone, of sorriest fancies your companions making, using those thoughts which should indeed have died with them they think on? Things done without all remedy should be without regard. What’s done is done.

Macbeth: ….after life’s fitful fever he sleeps well. Nothing can touch him further.

Come, my lord, sleek over your rugged look. Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.

Macbeth: …and make our faces vizards to our hearts, disguising what they are.

You must leave this.

Macbeth: Oh full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know’st that Banquo, and his fleance, lives.

But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne.

Macbeth: ….there shall be done a deed of dreadful note.

What’s to be done?

Act 3, Scene 4. Macbeth: …Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time we will require her welcome. 

Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends, for my heart speaks they are welcome. 

Macbeth: …tomorrow we’ll hear ourselves again.

My royal lord, you do not give the cheer.

Ross: Gentlemen, rise. His highness is not well.

Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thus, and hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat. The fit is momentary, upon a thought he will again be well. If much you note him, you shall offend him and extend his passion. Feed and regard him not. Are you a man?

Macbeth: Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that which might appall the devil.

O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear. This is the air drawn dagger which you led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, imposters to true fear, would well become a woman’s story at a winter’s fire, authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all’s done, you look but on a stool.

Macbeth:…our monuments shall be the maws of kites. 

What, quite unmanned in folly?

Macbeth: If I stand here, I saw him.

Fie, for shame!

Macbeth: …This is more strange than such a murder is.

My worthy lord, your noble friends do lack you.

Macbeth: …Thou hast no speculation in those eyes which thou dost glare with!

Think of this, good peers, but as a thing of custom. Tis no other, only it spoils the please of the time.

Macbeth: ..Why so, being gone, I am a man again. Pray you sit still.

You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, with most admired disorder.

Ross: What sights, my lord?

I pray you, speak not. He grows worse and worse. Question enrages him. At once, good night. Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.

Lennox: Good night, and better health attend his majesty! 

`A kind good night to all!

Macbeth: ..The secret’st man of blood. What is the night?

Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Macbeth: How say’st thou that macduff denies his person at our great bidding?

Did you send to him, sir?

Macbeth: ..Which must be acted ere they may be scanned.

You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

Act 5, Scene 1: Gentlewoman: It is an accustomed action with her to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her to continue in this a quarter od the hour. 

Yet here’s a spot.

Doctor: …to satisfy my remembrance all the more strongly.

Out damned spot, out I say! One two, why, then tis time to do it. Hell is murky! Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none of us can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.

Doctor: Do you mark that?

The thane of fife had a wife. Where is she now? What, will these hands never be clean. No more of that, my lord, no more of that. You mar all with this starting.

Gentlewoman: …Heaven knows wha she has known.

Here’s the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh oh!

Doctor: ..Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds. 

Wash your hands. Put on your nightgown. Look not so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo’s buried, he cannot come out on his grave.

Doctor: Even so?

To bed, to bed. There’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come. Give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed!