ACT 1
Scene 6
...rest to me.
Hautboys and Torches. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and Attendants.
...your leave, hostess.
They exit.
ACT 2
Scene 3
...bonfire.(Knock.) Anon, anon!
to Macduff and Lennox.
...remember the porter.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed
That you do lie so late?
...of three things.
What three things does drink especially
provoke?
...lie, leaves him.
I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
...to cast him.
Is thy master stirring?
Enter Macbeth.
Our knocking has awaked him. Here he comes.
...Good morrow, both.
Is the King stirring, worthy thane?
... Not yet.
He did command me to call timely on him.
I have almost slipped the hour.
...you to him.
I know this is a joyful trouble to you,
But yet ’tis one.
...is the door.
I’ll make so bold to call,
For ’tis my limited service.
Macduff exits.
...fellow to it.
Enter Macduff.
O horror, horror, horror!
Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!
...What’s the matter?
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord’s anointed temple and stole thence
The life o’ th’ building.
...you his Majesty?
Approach the chamber and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak.
See and then speak yourselves. 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.
...house? Speak, speak!
O gentle lady,
’Tis not for you to hear what I can speak.
The repetition in a woman’s ear
Would murder as it fell.
Enter Banquo.
O Banquo, Banquo,
Our royal master’s murdered.
...it is stopped.
Your royal father’s murdered.
...did kill them.
Wherefore did you so?
...me hence, ho!
Look to the lady.
...Of treasonous malice.
And so do I.
...th’ hall together.
Well contented.
All but Malcolm and Donalbain exit.
Scene 4
...looked upon ’t.
Enter Macduff.
...world, sir, now?
Why, see you not?
...than bloody deed?
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
...could they pretend?
They were suborned.
Malcolm and Donalbain, the King’s two sons,
Are stol’n away and fled, which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
...fall upon Macbeth.
He is already named and gone to Scone
To be invested.
...is Duncan’s body?
Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors
And guardian of their bones.
...you to Scone?
No, cousin, I’ll to Fife.
...I will thither.
Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu,
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new.
...friends of foes.
All exit.
ACT 4
Scene 2
...Son, and Ross.
LADY MACDUFF: What had he done to make him fly the land?
...have patience, madam.
LADY MACDUFF: He had none.
His flight was madness. When our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
...or his fear.
LADY MACDUFF: Wisdom? To leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion and his titles in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love,
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
...Blessing upon you.
LADY MACDUFF: Fathered he is, and yet he’s fatherless.
...leave at once.
LADY MACDUFF: Sirrah, your father’s dead.
And what will you do now? How will you live?
...birds do, mother.
LADY MACDUFF: What, with worms and flies?
...so do they.
LADY MACDUFF: Poor bird, thou ’dst never fear the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
...all your saying.
LADY MACDUFF: Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for a father?
...for a husband?
LADY MACDUFF: Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
...to sell again.
LADY MACDUFF: Thou speak’st with all thy wit,
And yet, i’ faith, with wit enough for thee.
...a traitor, mother?
LADY MACDUFF: Ay, that he was.
...is a traitor?
LADY MACDUFF: Why, one that swears and lies.
...that do so?
LADY MACDUFF: Every one that does so is a traitor
and must be hanged.
...swear and lie?
LADY MACDUFF: Every one.
...must hang them?
LADY MACDUFF: Why, the honest men.
...hang up them.
LADY MACDUFF: Now God help thee, poor monkey! But
how wilt thou do for a father?
...a new father.
LADY MACDUFF: Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!
...abide no longer.
LADY MACDUFF: Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm
Is often laudable, to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly. Why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defense
To say I have done no harm?
Enter Murderers.
What are these faces?
...is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF: I hope in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
Scene 3
...I pray you.
Enter Malcolm and Macduff.
...sad bosoms empty.
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword and, like good men,
Bestride our downfall’n birthdom. Each new morn
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yelled out
Like syllable of dolor.
...an angry god.
I am not treacherous.
...still look so.
I have lost my hopes.
...I shall think.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee. Wear thou thy wrongs;
The title is affeered.—Fare thee well, lord.
I would not be the villain that thou think’st
For the whole space that’s in the tyrant’s grasp,
And the rich East to boot.
...that shall succeed.
What should he be?
...my confineless harms.
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damned
In evils to top Macbeth.
...one to reign.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny. It hath been
Th’ untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours. You may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty
And yet seem cold—the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough. There cannot be
That vulture in you to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclined.
...them for wealth.
This avarice
Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear.
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will
Of your mere own. All these are portable,
With other graces weighed.
...unity on earth.
O Scotland, Scotland!
...I have spoken.
Fit to govern?
No, not to live.—O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accursed
And does blaspheme his breed?—Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king. The queen that bore thee,
Oft’ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well.
These evils thou repeat’st upon thyself
Hath banished me from Scotland.—O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!
...are you silent?
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
’Tis hard to reconcile.
...thank you, doctor.
What’s the disease he means?
... Enter Ross.
See who comes here.
...know him not.
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
... Sir, amen.
Stands Scotland where it did?
...ere they sicken.
O relation too nice and yet too true!
...a new one.
How does my wife?
... Why, well.
And all my children?
... Well too.
The tyrant has not battered at their peace?
...did leave ’em.
Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes ’t?
...not latch them.
What concern they—
The general cause, or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?
...to you alone.
If it be mine,
Keep it not from me. Quickly let me have it.
...yet they heard.
Hum! I guess at it.
...bids it break.
My children too?
...could be found.
And I must be from thence? My wife killed too?
...this deadly grief.
He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say “all”? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
...like a man.
I shall do so,
But I must also feel it as a man.
I cannot but remember such things were
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! Naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now.
...heart; enrage it.
O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission! Front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself.
Within my sword’s length set him. If he ’scape,
Heaven forgive him too.
...finds the day.
They exit.
ACT 5
Scene 4
...draw me here.
Drum and Colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, Siward’s son, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, and Soldiers, marching.
...are absent too.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.
...advance the war.
They exit marching.
Scene 6
...on our back.
Drum and Colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and their army, with boughs.
...we cannot fight.
Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
They exit.
Scene 7
...a woman born.
Alarums. Enter Macduff.
That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
If thou beest slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword with an unbattered edge
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune,
And more I beg not.He exits. Alarums.
Enter Malcolm and Siward.
Scene 8
...better upon them.
Enter Macduff.
Turn, hellhound, turn!
...of thine already.
I have no words;
My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out.
Fight. Alarum.
...of woman born.
Despair thy charm,
And let the angel whom thou still hast served
Tell thee Macduff was from his mother’s womb
Untimely ripped.
...fight with thee.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time.
We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit
“Here may you see the tyrant.”
...cries “Hold! Enough!”
They exit fighting. Alarums.
They enter fighting, and Macbeth is slain. Macduff exits carrying off Macbeth’s body. Retreat and flourish. Enter, with Drum and Colors, Malcolm, Siward, Ross, Thanes, and Soldiers.
...newer comfort.
Enter Macduff with Macbeth’s head.
Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold where stands
Th’ usurper’s cursèd head. The time is free.
I see thee compassed with thy kingdom’s pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds,
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine.
Hail, King of Scotland!
Hail, King of Scotland!
...crowned at Scone.
Flourish. All exit.