Macbeth

thumb|right|The first page of Macbeth, printed in the Second Folio of 1632 250px|thumb|right|Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? The Tragedie of Macbeth (c.1605) is a play by William Shakespeare in which a brave Scottish general named Macbeth receives a prophecy from a trio of witches that one day he will become King of Scotland. Consumed by ambition and spurred to action by his wife, Macbeth murders King Duncan and takes the Scottish throne for himself. He is then wracked with guilt and paranoia. Forced to commit more and more murders to protect himself from enmity and suspicion, he soon becomes a tyrannical ruler. The bloodbath and consequent civil war swiftly take Macbeth and Lady Macbeth into the realms of madness and death. It is often seen as an archetypal tale of the desire for power and the betrayal of loyalty. Act I First Witch: When shall we three meet againIn thunder, lightning, or in rain?Second Witch: When the hurly-burly's done,When the battle's lost and won.Third Witch: That will be ere the set of sun. First Witch: Where's the place? Second Witch: Upon the heathThird Witch:There to meet with Macbeth.First Witch: I come, Graymalkin!Second Witch: Paddock calls.Third Witch: Anon. Scene I Fair is foul, and foul is fair;Hover through the fog and filthy air. Witches, Scene I The merciless Macdonwald(Worthy to be a rebel, — for, to that,The multiplying villainies of natureDo swarm upon him) from the Western IslesOf kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,Showed like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name)Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,Which smoked with bloody execution,Like valour's minion,Carv'd out his passage. Captain, Scene II A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,And munched, and munched, and munched:Give me, quoth I:Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. First Witch, Scene III Sleep shall neither night nor dayHang upon his pent-house lid. First Witch, Scene III So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Macbeth, Scene III First Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!Second Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!Third Witch: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. Scene III If you can look into the seeds of time,And say which grain will grow, and which will not,Speak. Banquo, Scene III The earth hath bubbles, as water has,And these are of them. Banquo, Scene III Or have we eaten on the insane rootThat takes the reason prisoner? Banquo, Scene III But 'tis strange:And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,The instruments of darkness tell us truths,Win us with honest trifles, to betray'sIn deepest consequence. Banquo, Scene III If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown mewithout my stir. Macbeth, Scene III Come what come may,Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Macbeth, Scene III The thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me in borrowed robes? Macbeth, Scene III Nothing in his lifeBecame him like the leaving it; he diedAs one that had been studied in his death,To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,As 'twere a careless trifle. Malcolm, Scene IV There's no artTo find the mind's construction in the face:He was a gentleman on whom I builtAn absolute trust. Duncan, Scene IV Stars, hide your fires!Let not light see my black and deep desires. Macbeth, Scene IV Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt beWhat thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;It is too full o' the milk of human kindnessTo catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;Art not without ambition; but withoutThe illness should attend it. Lady Macbeth, Scene V The raven himself is hoarseThat croaks the fatal entrance of DuncanUnder my battlements. Come, you spiritsThat tend on mortal thoughts! unsex me here,And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-fullOf direst cruelty; make thick my blood,Stop up the access and passage to remorse,That no compunctious visitings of natureShake my fell purpose, nor keep peace betweenThe effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,Wherever in your sightless substancesYou wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hellThat my keen knife see not the wound it makesNor heaven peep through the blanket of the darkTo cry, "Hold, hold!" Lady Macbeth, Scene V Look like the innocent flower,But be the serpent under it. Lady Macbeth, Scene V If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere wellIt were done quickly; if the assassinationCould trammel up the consequence, and catch,With his surcease success; that but this blowMight be the be-all and the end-all here,But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,We'd jump the life to come. But in these casesWe still have judgement here; that we but teachBloody instructions, which being taught, returnTo plague the inventor: this even-handed justiceCommends the ingredients of our poison'd chaliceTo our own lips. He's here in double trust:First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,Who should against his murderer shut the door,Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this DuncanHath borne his faculties so meek, hath beenSo clear in his great office, that his virtuesWill plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, againstThe deep damnation of his taking-off:And pity, like a naked new-born babe,Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'dUpon the sightless couriers of the air,Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,That tears shall drown the wind.—I have no spurTo prick the sides of my intent, but onlyVaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,And falls on the other - Macbeth, Scene VII I have no spurTo prick the sides of my intent, but onlyVaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itselfAnd falls on the other. Macbeth, Scene VII I dare do all that may become a man;Who dares do more, is none. Macbeth, Scene VII I have given suck, and knowHow tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:I would, while it was smiling in my face,Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,And dash'd the brains out, had I so swornAs you have done to this. Lady Macbeth, Scene VII Macbeth: If we should fail —Lady Macbeth: We fail!But screw your courage to the sticking-place,And we'll not fail. Scene VII Away, and mock the time with fairest show:False face must hide what the false heart doth know. Macbeth, Scene VII What a haste looks through his eyes! Lennox Act II The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Fleance, Scene I There's [husbandry]] in heaven;Their candles are all out. Macbeth Banquo, Scene I Merciful powers!Restrain in me the cursèd thoughts that natureGives way to in repose. Banquo, Scene I thumb|Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Is this a dagger which I see before me,The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee;I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.Art thou not, fatal vision, sensibleTo feeling as to sight? or art thou butA dagger of the mind, a false creation,Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?I see thee yet, in form as palpableAs this which now I draw. Macbeth, Scene I Now o'er the one-half worldNature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuseThe curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebratesPale Hecate's offerings. Macbeth, Scene I Thou sure and firm-set earth,Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fearThe very stones prate of my where-about. Macbeth, Scene I I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knellThat summons thee to heaven, or to hell. Macbeth, Scene I Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!Macbeth does murder sleep, — the innocent sleep;Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd 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. Macbeth, Scene II Infirm of purpose!Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the deadAre but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhoodThat fears a painted devil. Lady Macbeth, Scene II 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 bloodClean from my hand? No; this my hand will ratherThe multitudinous seas incarnadine,Making the green one red. Macbeth, Scene II Faith, here's an equivocator, that couldswear in both the scales against either scale;who committed treason enough for God's sake,yet could not equivocate to heaven Porter, Scene III Porter: 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. Scene III Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!Most sacrilegious murder hath broke opeThe Lord's anointed temple, and stole thenceThe life o' the building! Macduff, Scene III 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 seeThe great doom's image! Macduff, Scene III Had I but died an hour before this chanceI had liv'd 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 leesIs left this vault to brag of. Macbeth, Scene III Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate and furious,Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:The expedition of my violent loveOutrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood,And his gash'd stabs looked like a breach in nature,for Ruin's wasteful entrance. There, the murderers;Steeped in the colors of their trade, their very daggersunmannerly breached with gore. Who could refrain,That had a heart to love, and in that heart,Courage to make's love known? Macbeth, Scene III In the great hand of God I stand; and thenceAgainst the undivulg'd pretence I fightOf treasonous malice! Banquo, Scene III To show an unfelt sorrow is an officeWhich the false man does easy. Malcolm, Scene III There’s daggers in men’s smiles. Donalbain, Scene III By the clock 'tis day,And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp.Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,That darkness does the face of earth entombWhen living light should kiss it? Ross, Scene IV A falcon, touring in her pride of place,Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. Old Man, Scene IV Here comes the good Macduff. —How goes the world, sir, now? Ross, Scene IV God's benison go with you; and with thoseThat would make good of bad, and friends of foes! Old Man, Scene IV Act III I must become a borrower of the nightFor a dark hour or twain. Banquo, Scene I To be thus is nothing,But to be safely thus. Macbeth, Scene I Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,And put a barren sceptre in my grip, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,No son of mine proceeding. Macbeth, Scene I First Murderer: We are men, my liege.Macbeth: Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men. Scene I Second Murderer: I am one, my liege,Whom the vile blows and buffets of the worldHave so incens'd, that I am reckless what I doTo spite the world.First Murderer: And I another,So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,That I would set my life on any chance,To mend it, or be rid on't. Scene I Banquo, thy soul's flight,If it find heaven, must find it out tonight. Macbeth, Scene I Naught's had, all's spentWhere our desire is got without content.'Tis safer to be that which we destroyThan, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy. Lady Macbeth, Scene II Things without all remedyShould be without regard: what's done is done. Lady Macbeth, Scene II We have scotch'd the snake, not killed it. Macbeth, Scene II Variant: We have scorch'd the snake, not killed it. Duncan is in his grave;After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,Can touch him further. Macbeth, Scene II Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flownHis cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's summonsThe shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be doneA deed of dreadful note. Macbeth, Scene II Come, seeling night,Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;And with thy bloody and invisible hand,Cancel and tear to pieces that great bondWhich keeps me pale! — Light thickens; and the crowMakes wing to the rooky wood.Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. Macbeth, Scene II Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. Macbeth, Scene II Banquo: It will be rain to-night.First Murderer: Let it come down.Banquo: O, treachery! — Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!Thou mayst revenge. — O, slave! Scene III Now spurs the lated traveller apaceTo gain the timely inn; and near approachesThe subject of our watch. First Murderer, Scene III But now, I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound inTo saucy doubts and fears. Macbeth, Scene IV Now, good digestion wait on appetite,And health on both! Macbeth, Scene IV Thou canst not say I did it: never shakeThy gory locks at me. Macbeth, Scene IV Lady Macbeth: Are you a man? Macbeth: Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on thatWhich might appall the devil. Scene IV I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,And all to all. Macbeth, Scene IV What man dare, I dare:Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;Take any shape but that, and my firm nervesShall never tremble: or be alive again,And dare me to the desert with thy sword;If trembling I inhabit then, protest meThe baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!Unreal mockery, hence! Macbeth, Scene IV Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once. Lady Macbeth, Scene IV It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:Stones have been known to move and trees to speak. Macbeth, Scene IV I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er. Macbeth, Scene IV You lack the season of all natures, sleep. Lady Macbeth, Scene IV My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,Which can interpret farther. Only I sayThings have been strangely borne. The gracious DuncanWas pitied of Macbeth; marry, he was dead.And the right valiant Banquo walked too late,Whom you may say, if ’t please you, Fleance killed,For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.Who cannot want the thought how monstrousIt was for Malcolm and for DonalbainTo kill their gracious father? Damnèd fact,How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straightIn pious rage the two delinquents tearThat were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely, too,For ’twould have angered any heart aliveTo hear the men deny ’t. So that I sayHe has borne all things well. Lennox to another Lord, Scene VI Act IV Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Witches, Scene I See also List of misquotations By the pricking of my thumbs,Something wicked this way comes: —Open, locks,Whoever knocks! Second Witch, Scene I Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. First Apparition, Scene I Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scornThe power of man, for none of woman bornShall harm Macbeth. Second Apparition, Scene I Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, untilGreat Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hillShall come against him.Macbeth: That will never be.Who can impress the forest, bid the tree,Unfix his earthbound root? Third Apparition, Scene I When our actions do not,Our fears do make us traitors. Lady Macduff, Scene II Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upwardTo what they were before. Ross, Scene II First Murderer: Where is your husband?Lady Macduff: I hope, in no place so unsanctified,Where such as thou mayst find him.First Murderer: He's a traitor.Son: Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!First Murderer: What, you egg! Scene II Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,Yet grace must still look so. Malcolm, Scene III Fare thee well, lord:I would not be the villain that thou think'stFor the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,And the rich East to boot. Macduff, Scene III Not in the legionsOf horrid hell can come a devil more damnedIn evils to top Macbeth. Macduff, Scene III Nay, had I power, I shouldPour the sweet milk of concord into hell,Uproar the universal peace, confoundAll unity on earth. Malcolm, Scene III Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air,Are made, not markt; where violent sorrow seemsA modern ecstasy: the dead man's knellIs there scarce askt for who; and good men's livesExpire before the flowers in their caps,Dying or e'er they sicken. Ross, Scene III Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speakWhispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. Malcolm, Scene III All my pretty ones?Did you say all? — O, hell-kite! All?What, all my pretty chickens and their damAt one fell swoop? Macduff, Scene III Malcolm: Dispute it like a man.Macduff: 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. Scene III Act V thumb|Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. thumb|Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrowCreeps in this petty pace from day to dayTo the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing. Out, damned spot! out, I say!— One; two; why, then 'tistime to do't ;—Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier,and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can callour power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man tohave had so much blood in him? Lady Macbeth, Scene I The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?—What, will these hands ne'er be clean? Lady Macbeth, Scene I Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh! Lady Macbeth, Scene I What's done cannot be undone. Lady Macbeth, Scene I Those he commands move only in command,Nothing in love: now does he feel his titleHang loose about him, like a giant's robeUpon a dwarfish thief. Angus, Scene II The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!Where gott'st thou that goose look? Macbeth, Scene III Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,Thou lily-liver'd boy. Macbeth, Scene III I have liv'd long enough: my way of lifeIs fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf;And that which should accompany old age,As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,I must not look to have; but, in their stead,Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Macbeth, Scene III Macbeth: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;Raze out the written troubles of the brain;And with some sweet oblivious antidote,Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuffWhich weighs upon the heart?Doctor: Therein the patientMust minister to himself.Macbeth: Throw physic to the dogs; — I'll none of it. Scene III I would applaud thee to the very echo,That should applaud again. Macbeth, Scene III Hang out our banners on the outward walls;The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strengthWill laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lieTill famine and the ague eat them up.Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,And beat them backward home. Macbeth, Scene V I have almost forgot the taste of fears;The time has been, my senses would have cool'dTo hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hairWould at a dismal treatise rouse and stirAs life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughtsCannot once start me. Macbeth, Scene V She should have died hereafter;There would have been time for such a word.Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrowCreeps in this petty pace from day to dayTo the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing. Macbeth, Scene V, „Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow“ soliloquy Messenger: As I did stand my watch upon the hill,I looked toward Birnam, and anon methoughtThe Wood began to move.Macbeth: Liar and slave! Scene V I pull in resolution, and beginTo doubt the equivocation of the fiendThat lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam woodDo come to Dunsinane:' and now a woodComes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!If this which he avouches does appear,There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.I gin to be aweary of the sun,And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack!At least we'll die with harness on our back. Macbeth, Scene V Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Macduff, Scene VI thumb|They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,But, bear-like, I must fight the course They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,But, bear-like, I must fight the course MacBeth, Scene VII Note: this metaphor refers to bear-baiting Why should I play the Roman fool, and dieOn mine own sword? Macbeth, Scene VIII Macduff: Turn, hell-hound, turn!Macbeth:Of all men else I have avoided thee.But get thee back. My soul is too much chargedWith blood of thine already.Macduff: I have no words.My voice is in my sword. Thou bloodier villainThan terms can give thee out! Macduff, Scene VIII Macbeth: I bear a charmed life, which must not yieldTo one of woman born.Macduff: Despair thy charm;And let the angel whom thou still hast servedTell thee, Macduff was from his mother's wombUntimely ripp'd.Macbeth: Accursed be the tongue that tells me so,For it hath cow'd my better part of man!And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,That palter with us in a double sense;That keep the word of promise to our ear,And break it to our hope. Scene VIII Then yield thee, coward,And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,Painted on a pole, and underwrit,'Here may you see the tyrant.' Macduff, Scene VIII I will not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, And to be baited with the rabble's curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou opposed, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!' Macbeth', Scene VIII External links Macbeth (Shakespeare) Macbeth eText from Project Gutenberg Category:Shakespearean tragedies