diff --git a/.gitignore b/.gitignore new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e43b0f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitignore @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +.DS_Store diff --git a/.rspec b/.rspec new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b83d9b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/.rspec @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +--color +--format documentation +--require spec_helper diff --git a/Gemfile b/Gemfile new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9f26eb --- /dev/null +++ b/Gemfile @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +source 'https://rubygems.org' + +gem 'nokogiri' + +group :test do + gem 'aruba' + gem 'webmock' + gem 'vcr' +end + +group :development do + gem 'rake' +end diff --git a/Gemfile.lock b/Gemfile.lock new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7184453 --- /dev/null +++ b/Gemfile.lock @@ -0,0 +1,46 @@ +GEM + remote: https://rubygems.org/ + specs: + addressable (2.3.5) + aruba (0.5.3) + childprocess (>= 0.3.6) + cucumber (>= 1.1.1) + rspec-expectations (>= 2.7.0) + builder (3.2.2) + childprocess (0.3.9) + ffi (~> 1.0, >= 1.0.11) + crack (0.4.1) + safe_yaml (~> 0.9.0) + cucumber (1.3.10) + builder (>= 2.1.2) + diff-lcs (>= 1.1.3) + gherkin (~> 2.12) + multi_json (>= 1.7.5, < 2.0) + multi_test (>= 0.0.2) + diff-lcs (1.2.5) + ffi (1.9.3) + gherkin (2.12.2) + multi_json (~> 1.3) + mini_portile (0.5.2) + multi_json (1.8.2) + multi_test (0.0.2) + nokogiri (1.6.1) + mini_portile (~> 0.5.0) + rake (10.1.0) + rspec-expectations (2.14.4) + diff-lcs (>= 1.1.3, < 2.0) + safe_yaml (0.9.7) + vcr (2.8.0) + webmock (1.8.0) + addressable (>= 2.2.7) + crack (>= 0.1.7) + +PLATFORMS + ruby + +DEPENDENCIES + aruba + nokogiri + rake + vcr + webmock diff --git a/Rakefile b/Rakefile new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c92204b --- /dev/null +++ b/Rakefile @@ -0,0 +1,9 @@ +require 'cucumber' +require 'cucumber/rake/task' + +Cucumber::Rake::Task.new(:features) do |t| + t.cucumber_opts = "features --format pretty -x" + t.fork = false +end + +task :default => :features diff --git a/features/cassettes/Macbeth_Analyzer/Lines_per_character.yml b/features/cassettes/Macbeth_Analyzer/Lines_per_character.yml new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec2fa17 --- /dev/null +++ b/features/cassettes/Macbeth_Analyzer/Lines_per_character.yml @@ -0,0 +1,5550 @@ +--- +http_interactions: +- request: + method: get + uri: http://www.ibiblio.org/xml/examples/shakespeare/macbeth.xml + body: + encoding: US-ASCII + string: '' + headers: + Accept-Encoding: + - gzip;q=1.0,deflate;q=0.6,identity;q=0.3 + Accept: + - '*/*' + User-Agent: + - Ruby + response: + status: + code: 200 + message: OK + headers: + Date: + - Thu, 26 Dec 2013 15:47:53 GMT + Server: + - Apache + Last-Modified: + - Mon, 16 Aug 1999 18:58:28 GMT + Etag: + - '"f63ea4-27d05-352390c977d00"' + Accept-Ranges: + - bytes + Content-Length: + - '163077' + Content-Style-Type: + - text/css + Content-Type: + - text/xml + body: + encoding: UTF-8 + string: | + + + + + The Tragedy of Macbeth + + +

Text placed in the public domain by Moby Lexical Tools, 1992.

+

SGML markup by Jon Bosak, 1992-1994.

+

XML version by Jon Bosak, 1996-1998.

+

This work may be freely copied and distributed worldwide.

+ + + + + Dramatis Personae + + DUNCAN, king of Scotland. + + + MALCOLM + DONALBAIN + his sons. + + + + + MACBETH + BANQUO + generals of the king's army. + + + + + MACDUFF + LENNOX + ROSS + MENTEITH + ANGUS + CAITHNESS + noblemen of Scotland. + + + FLEANCE, son to Banquo. + SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces. + YOUNG SIWARD, his son. + SEYTON, an officer attending on Macbeth. + Boy, son to Macduff. + An English Doctor. + A Scotch Doctor. + A Soldier. + A Porter. + An Old Man. + LADY MACBETH + LADY MACDUFF + Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. + HECATE + Three Witches. + Apparitions. + Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants, and Messengers. + + + SCENE Scotland: England. + + MACBETH + + ACT I + + SCENE I. A desert place. + Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches + + + First Witch + When shall we three meet again + In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + + + + Second Witch + When the hurlyburly's done, + When the battle's lost and won. + + + + Third Witch + That will be ere the set of sun. + + + + First Witch + Where the place? + + + + Second Witch + Upon the heath. + + + + Third Witch + There to meet with Macbeth. + + + + First Witch + I come, Graymalkin! + + + + Second Witch + Paddock calls. + + + + Third Witch + Anon. + + + + ALL + Fair is foul, and foul is fair: + Hover through the fog and filthy air. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, + LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant + + + DUNCAN + What bloody man is that? He can report, + As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt + The newest state. + + + + MALCOLM + This is the sergeant + Who like a good and hardy soldier fought + 'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! + Say to the king the knowledge of the broil + As thou didst leave it. + + + + Sergeant + Doubtful it stood; + As two spent swimmers, that do cling together + And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- + Worthy to be a rebel, for to that + The multiplying villanies of nature + Do swarm upon him--from the western isles + Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; + And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, + Show'd 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 carved out his passage + Till he faced the slave; + Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, + Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, + And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + + + + DUNCAN + O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + + + + Sergeant + As whence the sun 'gins his reflection + Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, + So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come + Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: + No sooner justice had with valour arm'd + Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, + But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, + With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men + Began a fresh assault. + + + + DUNCAN + Dismay'd not this + Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + + + + Sergeant + Yes; + As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. + If I say sooth, I must report they were + As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they + Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: + Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, + Or memorise another Golgotha, + I cannot tell. + But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + + + + DUNCAN + So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; + They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + Exit Sergeant, attended + Who comes here? + + + + Enter ROSS + + + MALCOLM + The worthy thane of Ross. + + + + LENNOX + What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look + That seems to speak things strange. + + + + ROSS + God save the king! + + + + DUNCAN + Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + + + + ROSS + From Fife, great king; + Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky + And fan our people cold. Norway himself, + With terrible numbers, + Assisted by that most disloyal traitor + The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; + Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, + Confronted him with self-comparisons, + Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. + Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, + The victory fell on us. + + + + DUNCAN + Great happiness! + + + + ROSS + That now + Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: + Nor would we deign him burial of his men + Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch + Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + + + + DUNCAN + No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive + Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, + And with his former title greet Macbeth. + + + + ROSS + I'll see it done. + + + + DUNCAN + What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + Thunder. Enter the three Witches + + + First Witch + Where hast thou been, sister? + + + + Second Witch + Killing swine. + + + + Third Witch + Sister, where thou? + + + + First Witch + A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, + And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- + 'Give me,' quoth I: + 'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. + Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: + But in a sieve I'll thither sail, + And, like a rat without a tail, + I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + + + + Second Witch + I'll give thee a wind. + + + + First Witch + Thou'rt kind. + + + + Third Witch + And I another. + + + + First Witch + I myself have all the other, + And the very ports they blow, + All the quarters that they know + I' the shipman's card. + I will drain him dry as hay: + Sleep shall neither night nor day + Hang upon his pent-house lid; + He shall live a man forbid: + Weary se'nnights nine times nine + Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: + Though his bark cannot be lost, + Yet it shall be tempest-tost. + Look what I have. + + + + Second Witch + Show me, show me. + + + + First Witch + Here I have a pilot's thumb, + Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + + + + Drum within + + + Third Witch + A drum, a drum! + Macbeth doth come. + + + + ALL + The weird sisters, hand in hand, + Posters of the sea and land, + Thus do go about, about: + Thrice to thine and thrice to mine + And thrice again, to make up nine. + Peace! the charm's wound up. + + + + Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + + + MACBETH + So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + + + + BANQUO + How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these + So wither'd and so wild in their attire, + That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, + And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught + That man may question? You seem to understand me, + By each at once her chappy finger laying + Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, + And yet your beards forbid me to interpret + That you are so. + + + + MACBETH + Speak, if you can: what are you? + + + + 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, thou shalt be king hereafter! + + + + BANQUO + Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear + Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, + Are ye fantastical, or that indeed + Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner + You greet with present grace and great prediction + Of noble having and of royal hope, + That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. + If you can look into the seeds of time, + And say which grain will grow and which will not, + Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear + Your favours nor your hate. + + + + First Witch + Hail! + + + + Second Witch + Hail! + + + + Third Witch + Hail! + + + + First Witch + Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + + + + Second Witch + Not so happy, yet much happier. + + + + Third Witch + Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: + So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + + + + First Witch + Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + + + + MACBETH + Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: + By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; + But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, + A prosperous gentleman; and to be king + Stands not within the prospect of belief, + No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence + You owe this strange intelligence? or why + Upon this blasted heath you stop our way + With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + + + + Witches vanish + + + BANQUO + The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, + And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + + + + MACBETH + Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted + As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + + + + BANQUO + Were such things here as we do speak about? + Or have we eaten on the insane root + That takes the reason prisoner? + + + + MACBETH + Your children shall be kings. + + + + BANQUO + You shall be king. + + + + MACBETH + And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + + + + BANQUO + To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + + + + Enter ROSS and ANGUS + + + ROSS + The king hath happily received, Macbeth, + The news of thy success; and when he reads + Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, + His wonders and his praises do contend + Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, + In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, + He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, + Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, + Strange images of death. As thick as hail + Came post with post; and every one did bear + Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, + And pour'd them down before him. + + + + ANGUS + We are sent + To give thee from our royal master thanks; + Only to herald thee into his sight, + Not pay thee. + + + + ROSS + And, for an earnest of a greater honour, + He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: + In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! + For it is thine. + + + + BANQUO + What, can the devil speak true? + + + + MACBETH + The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me + In borrow'd robes? + + + + ANGUS + Who was the thane lives yet; + But under heavy judgment bears that life + Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined + With those of Norway, or did line the rebel + With hidden help and vantage, or that with both + He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; + But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, + Have overthrown him. + + + + MACBETH + Aside Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! + The greatest is behind. + To ROSS and ANGUS + Thanks for your pains. + To BANQUO + Do you not hope your children shall be kings, + When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me + Promised no less to them? + + + + BANQUO + That trusted home + Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, + Besides the thane of Cawdor. 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's + In deepest consequence. + Cousins, a word, I pray you. + + + + MACBETH + Aside Two truths are told, + As happy prologues to the swelling act + Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + Aside This supernatural soliciting + Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, + Why hath it given me earnest of success, + Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: + If good, why do I yield to that suggestion + Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair + And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, + Against the use of nature? Present fears + Are less than horrible imaginings: + My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, + Shakes so my single state of man that function + Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is + But what is not. + + + + BANQUO + Look, how our partner's rapt. + + + + MACBETH + Aside If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, + Without my stir. + + + + BANQUO + New horrors come upon him, + Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould + But with the aid of use. + + + + MACBETH + Aside Come what come may, + Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + + + + BANQUO + Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + + + + MACBETH + Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought + With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains + Are register'd where every day I turn + The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. + Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, + The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak + Our free hearts each to other. + + + + BANQUO + Very gladly. + + + + MACBETH + Till then, enough. Come, friends. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, + and Attendants + + + DUNCAN + Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not + Those in commission yet return'd? + + + + MALCOLM + My liege, + They are not yet come back. But I have spoke + With one that saw him die: who did report + That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, + Implored your highness' pardon and set forth + A deep repentance: nothing in his life + Became him like the leaving it; he died + As one that had been studied in his death + To throw away the dearest thing he owed, + As 'twere a careless trifle. + + + + DUNCAN + There's no art + To find the mind's construction in the face: + He was a gentleman on whom I built + An absolute trust. + Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + O worthiest cousin! + The sin of my ingratitude even now + Was heavy on me: thou art so far before + That swiftest wing of recompense is slow + To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, + That the proportion both of thanks and payment + Might have been mine! only I have left to say, + More is thy due than more than all can pay. + + + + MACBETH + The service and the loyalty I owe, + In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part + Is to receive our duties; and our duties + Are to your throne and state children and servants, + Which do but what they should, by doing every thing + Safe toward your love and honour. + + + + DUNCAN + Welcome hither: + I have begun to plant thee, and will labour + To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, + That hast no less deserved, nor must be known + No less to have done so, let me enfold thee + And hold thee to my heart. + + + + BANQUO + There if I grow, + The harvest is your own. + + + + DUNCAN + My plenteous joys, + Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves + In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, + And you whose places are the nearest, know + We will establish our estate upon + Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter + The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must + Not unaccompanied invest him only, + But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine + On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, + And bind us further to you. + + + + MACBETH + The rest is labour, which is not used for you: + I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful + The hearing of my wife with your approach; + So humbly take my leave. + + + + DUNCAN + My worthy Cawdor! + + + + MACBETH + Aside The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step + On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, + For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; + Let not light see my black and deep desires: + The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, + Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + + + + Exit + + + DUNCAN + True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, + And in his commendations I am fed; + It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, + Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: + It is a peerless kinsman. + + + + Flourish. Exeunt + + + SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter + + + LADY MACBETH + '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 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 + mightst 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 thy nature; + It is too full o' 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: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, + That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; + And that which rather thou dost fear to do + Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, + That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; + And chastise with the valour of my tongue + All that impedes thee from the golden round, + Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem + To have thee crown'd withal. + Enter a Messenger + What is your tidings? + + + + Messenger + The king comes here to-night. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Thou'rt mad to say it: + Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, + Would have inform'd for preparation. + + + + Messenger + 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. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Give him tending; + He brings great news. + Exit Messenger + 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 to my woman's breasts, + And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, + Wherever in your sightless substances + You wait on nature's mischief! 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!' + Enter MACBETH + Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! + Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! + Thy letters have transported me beyond + This ignorant present, and I feel now + The future in the instant. + + + + MACBETH + My dearest love, + Duncan comes here to-night. + + + + LADY MACBETH + And when goes hence? + + + + MACBETH + To-morrow, as he purposes. + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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't. 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. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Only look up clear; + To alter favour ever is to fear: + Leave all the rest to me. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, + DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, + and Attendants + + + DUNCAN + This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air + Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself + Unto our gentle senses. + + + + BANQUO + This guest of summer, + The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, + By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath + Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, + Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird + Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: + Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, + The air is delicate. + + + + Enter LADY MACBETH + + + DUNCAN + See, see, our honour'd hostess! + The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, + Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you + How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, + And thank us for your trouble. + + + + LADY MACBETH + All our service + In every point twice done and then done double + Were poor and single business to contend + Against those honours deep and broad wherewith + Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, + And the late dignities heap'd up to them, + We rest your hermits. + + + + DUNCAN + Where's the thane of Cawdor? + We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose + To be his purveyor: but he rides well; + And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him + To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, + We are your guest to-night. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Your servants ever + Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, + To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, + Still to return your own. + + + + DUNCAN + Give me your hand; + Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, + And shall continue our graces towards him. + By your leave, hostess. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers + Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the + stage. Then enter MACBETH + + + MACBETH + If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well + It were done quickly: if the assassination + Could trammel up the consequence, and catch + With his surcease success; that but this blow + Might be the be-all and the end-all here, + But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, + We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases + We still have judgment here; that we but teach + Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return + To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice + Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice + To 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 Duncan + Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been + So clear in his great office, that his virtues + Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against + The deep damnation of his taking-off; + And pity, like a naked new-born babe, + Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed + Upon the sightless couriers of the air, + Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, + That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur + To prick the sides of my intent, but only + Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself + And falls on the other. + Enter LADY MACBETH + How now! what news? + + + + LADY MACBETH + He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + + + + MACBETH + Hath he ask'd for me? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Know you not he has? + + + + MACBETH + We will proceed no further in this business: + He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought + Golden opinions from all sorts of people, + Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, + Not cast aside so soon. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Was the hope drunk + Wherein you dress'd 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 valour + As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that + Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, + And live a coward in thine own esteem, + Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' + Like the poor cat i' the adage? + + + + MACBETH + Prithee, peace: + I dare do all that may become a man; + Who dares do more is none. + + + + LADY MACBETH + What beast was't, 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 would + 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 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 sworn as you + Have done to this. + + + + MACBETH + If we should fail? + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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 wine and wassail so convince + That memory, the warder of the brain, + Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason + A limbeck only: 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 men-children only; + For thy undaunted mettle should compose + Nothing but males. Will it not be received, + When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two + Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, + That they have done't? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Who dares receive it other, + As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar + Upon his death? + + + + MACBETH + I am settled, and bend up + Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. + Away, and mock the time with fairest show: + False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + ACT II + + SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him + + + BANQUO + How goes the night, boy? + + + + FLEANCE + The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + + + + BANQUO + And she goes down at twelve. + + + + FLEANCE + I take't, 'tis later, sir. + + + + BANQUO + Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; + Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. + A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, + And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, + Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature + Gives way to in repose! + Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + Give me my sword. + Who's there? + + + + MACBETH + A friend. + + + + BANQUO + What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: + He hath been in unusual pleasure, and + Sent forth great largess to your offices. + This diamond he greets your wife withal, + By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up + In measureless content. + + + + MACBETH + Being unprepared, + Our will became the servant to defect; + Which else should free have wrought. + + + + BANQUO + All's well. + I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: + To you they have show'd some truth. + + + + MACBETH + I think not of them: + Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, + We would spend it in some words upon that business, + If you would grant the time. + + + + BANQUO + At your kind'st leisure. + + + + MACBETH + If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, + It shall make honour for you. + + + + BANQUO + So I lose none + In seeking to augment it, but still keep + My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, + I shall be counsell'd. + + + + MACBETH + Good repose the while! + + + + BANQUO + Thanks, sir: the like to you! + + + + Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + + + MACBETH + Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, + She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + Exit Servant + 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, sensible + To feeling as to sight? or art thou but + A dagger of the mind, a false creation, + Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? + I see thee yet, in form as palpable + As this which now I draw. + Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; + And such an instrument I was to use. + Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, + Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, + And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, + Which was not so before. There's no such thing: + It is the bloody business which informs + Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld + Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse + The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates + Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, + Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, + Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. + With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design + Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, + Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear + Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, + And take the present horror from the time, + Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: + Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + A bell rings + I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. + Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell + That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + + + + Exit + + + SCENE II. The same. + Enter LADY MACBETH + + + LADY MACBETH + That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; + What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. + Hark! Peace! + It was the owl that shriek'd, 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 drugg'd + their possets, + That death and nature do contend about them, + Whether they live or die. + + + + MACBETH + Within Who's there? what, ho! + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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't. + Enter MACBETH + My husband! + + + + MACBETH + I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + + + + LADY MACBETH + I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. + Did not you speak? + + + + MACBETH + When? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Now. + + + + MACBETH + As I descended? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Ay. + + + + MACBETH + Hark! + Who lies i' the second chamber? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Donalbain. + + + + MACBETH + This is a sorry sight. + + + + Looking on his hands + + + LADY MACBETH + A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + + + + MACBETH + There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried + 'Murder!' + That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: + But they did say their prayers, and address'd them + Again to sleep. + + + + LADY MACBETH + There are two lodged together. + + + + MACBETH + One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; + As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. + Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' + When they did say 'God bless us!' + + + + LADY MACBETH + Consider it not so deeply. + + + + MACBETH + But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? + I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' + Stuck in my throat. + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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 ravell'd sleeve of care, + The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, + Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, + Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + + + + LADY MACBETH + What do you mean? + + + + MACBETH + Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: + 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor + Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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. + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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. + + + + Exit. Knocking within + + + 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 blood + Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather + The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, + Making the green one red. + + + + Re-enter LADY MACBETH + + + LADY MACBETH + My hands are of your colour; but I shame + To wear a heart so white. + Knocking within + 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. + Knocking within + 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. + + + + MACBETH + To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + Knocking within + Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE III. The same. + Knocking within. Enter a Porter + + + 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 + Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged + himself on the expectation of plenty: come in + time; have napkins enow about you; here + you'll sweat for't. + Knocking within + Knock, + knock! Who's there, in the 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 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. + + + + MACDUFF + Is thy master stirring? + Enter MACBETH + Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + + + + LENNOX + Good morrow, noble sir. + + + + MACBETH + Good 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 labour 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 to-day? + + + + 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 + Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth + Was feverous and did shake. + + + + MACBETH + 'Twas a rough night. + + + + 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 murder 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. 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. + + + 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 murder as it fell. + Enter BANQUO + O Banquo, Banquo, + Our royal master 's murder'd! + + + + LADY MACBETH + Woe, alas! + What, in our house? + + + + BANQUO + Too cruel any where. + 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 stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + + + + MACDUFF + Your royal father 's murder'd. + + + + MALCOLM + O, by whom? + + + + LENNOX + Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: + Their hands and faces were an 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 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 murderers, + Steep'd in the colours 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 pretence 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 murderous 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 + + + SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + Enter ROSS and an old Man + + + Old Man + Threescore and ten I can remember well: + Within the volume of which time I have seen + Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night + Hath trifled former knowings. + + + + ROSS + Ah, good father, + Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, + Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, + And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: + Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, + That darkness does the face of earth entomb, + When living light should kiss it? + + + + Old Man + 'Tis unnatural, + Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, + A falcon, towering in her pride of place, + Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + + + + ROSS + And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- + Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, + Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, + Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make + War with mankind. + + + + Old Man + 'Tis said they eat each other. + + + + ROSS + They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes + That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + Enter MACDUFF + How goes the world, sir, now? + + + + MACDUFF + Why, see you not? + + + + ROSS + Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + + + + MACDUFF + Those that Macbeth hath slain. + + + + ROSS + Alas, the day! + What good could they pretend? + + + + MACDUFF + They were suborn'd: + Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, + Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them + Suspicion of the deed. + + + + ROSS + 'Gainst nature still! + Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up + Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like + The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + + + + MACDUFF + He is already named, and gone to Scone + To be invested. + + + + ROSS + Where is Duncan's body? + + + + MACDUFF + Carried to Colmekill, + The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, + And guardian of their bones. + + + + ROSS + Will you to Scone? + + + + MACDUFF + No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + + + + ROSS + Well, I will thither. + + + + MACDUFF + Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! + Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + + + + ROSS + Farewell, father. + + + + Old Man + God's benison go with you; and with those + That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + + + + Exeunt + + + + + ACT III + + SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + Enter BANQUO + + + BANQUO + Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, + As the weird women promised, and, I fear, + Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said + It should not stand in thy posterity, + But that myself should be the root and father + Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- + As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- + Why, by the verities on thee made good, + May they not be my oracles as well, + And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + + + + Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY + MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and + Attendants + + + MACBETH + Here's our chief guest. + + + + LADY MACBETH + If he had been forgotten, + It had been as a gap in our great feast, + And all-thing unbecoming. + + + + MACBETH + To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, + And I'll request your presence. + + + + BANQUO + Let your highness + Command upon me; to the which my duties + Are with a most indissoluble tie + For ever knit. + + + + MACBETH + Ride you this afternoon? + + + + BANQUO + Ay, my good lord. + + + + MACBETH + We should have else desired your good advice, + Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, + In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. + Is't far you ride? + + + + BANQUO + As far, my lord, as will fill up the time + 'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, + I must become a borrower of the night + For a dark hour or twain. + + + + MACBETH + Fail not our feast. + + + + BANQUO + My lord, I will not. + + + + MACBETH + We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd + In England and in Ireland, not confessing + Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers + With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, + When therewithal we shall have cause of state + Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, + Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + + + + BANQUO + Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + + + + MACBETH + I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; + And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + Exit BANQUO + Let every man be master of his time + Till seven at night: to make society + The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself + Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men + Our pleasure? + + + + ATTENDANT + They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + + + + MACBETH + Bring them before us. + Exit Attendant + To be thus is nothing; + But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo + Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature + Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; + And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, + He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour + To act in safety. There is none but he + Whose being I do fear: and, under him, + My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, + Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters + When first they put the name of king upon me, + And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like + They hail'd him father to a line of kings: + Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, + And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, + Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, + No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, + For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; + For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; + Put rancours in the vessel of my peace + Only for them; and mine eternal jewel + Given to the common enemy of man, + To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! + Rather than so, come fate into the list. + And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + Exit Attendant + Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + + + + First Murderer + It was, so please your highness. + + + + MACBETH + Well then, now + Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know + That it was he in the times past which held you + So under fortune, which you thought had been + Our innocent self: this I made good to you + In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, + How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, + the instruments, + Who wrought with them, and all things else that might + To half a soul and to a notion crazed + Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + + + + First Murderer + You made it known to us. + + + + MACBETH + I did so, and went further, which is now + Our point of second meeting. Do you find + Your patience so predominant in your nature + That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd + To pray for this good man and for his issue, + Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave + And beggar'd yours for ever? + + + + First Murderer + We are men, my liege. + + + + MACBETH + Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; + As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, + Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept + All by the name of dogs: the valued file + Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, + The housekeeper, the hunter, every one + According to the gift which bounteous nature + Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive + Particular addition. from the bill + That writes them all alike: and so of men. + Now, if you have a station in the file, + Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; + And I will put that business in your bosoms, + Whose execution takes your enemy off, + Grapples you to the heart and love of us, + Who wear our health but sickly in his life, + Which in his death were perfect. + + + + Second Murderer + I am one, my liege, + Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world + Have so incensed that I am reckless what + I do to spite the world. + + + + First Murderer + And I another + So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, + That I would set my lie on any chance, + To mend it, or be rid on't. + + + + MACBETH + Both of you + Know Banquo was your enemy. + + + + Both Murderers + True, my lord. + + + + MACBETH + So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, + That every minute of his being thrusts + Against my near'st of life: and though I could + With barefaced power sweep him from my sight + And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, + For certain friends that are both his and mine, + Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall + Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, + That I to your assistance do make love, + Masking the business from the common eye + For sundry weighty reasons. + + + + Second Murderer + We shall, my lord, + Perform what you command us. + + + + First Murderer + Though our lives-- + + + + MACBETH + Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most + I will advise you where to plant yourselves; + Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, + The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, + And something from the palace; always thought + That I require a clearness: and with him-- + To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- + Fleance his son, that keeps him company, + Whose absence is no less material to me + Than is his father's, must embrace the fate + Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: + I'll come to you anon. + + + + Both Murderers + We are resolved, my lord. + + + + MACBETH + I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + Exeunt Murderers + It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, + If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + + + + Exit + + + SCENE II. The palace. + Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant + + + LADY MACBETH + Is Banquo gone from court? + + + + Servant + Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Say to the king, I would attend his leisure + For a few words. + + + + Servant + Madam, I will. + + + + Exit + + + LADY MACBETH + Nought'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. + Enter MACBETH + 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 without all remedy + Should be without regard: what's done is done. + + + + MACBETH + We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: + She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice + Remains in danger of her former tooth. + But let the frame of things disjoint, both the + worlds suffer, + Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep + In the affliction of these terrible dreams + That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, + Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, + Than on the torture of the mind to lie + In restless ecstasy. 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. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Come on; + Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; + Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + + + + MACBETH + So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: + Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; + Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: + Unsafe the while, that we + Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, + And make our faces vizards to our hearts, + Disguising what they are. + + + + LADY MACBETH + You must leave this. + + + + MACBETH + O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! + Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + + + + LADY MACBETH + But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + + + + MACBETH + There's comfort yet; they are assailable; + Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown + His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons + The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums + Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done + A deed of dreadful note. + + + + LADY MACBETH + What's to be done? + + + + MACBETH + Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, + Till thou applaud the deed. 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 bond + Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow + Makes wing to the rooky wood: + Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; + While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. + Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; + Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. + So, prithee, go with me. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE III. A park near the palace. + Enter three Murderers + + + First Murderer + But who did bid thee join with us? + + + + Third Murderer + Macbeth. + + + + Second Murderer + He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers + Our offices and what we have to do + To the direction just. + + + + First Murderer + Then stand with us. + The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: + Now spurs the lated traveller apace + To gain the timely inn; and near approaches + The subject of our watch. + + + + Third Murderer + Hark! I hear horses. + + + + BANQUO + Within Give us a light there, ho! + + + + Second Murderer + Then 'tis he: the rest + That are within the note of expectation + Already are i' the court. + + + + First Murderer + His horses go about. + + + + Third Murderer + Almost a mile: but he does usually, + So all men do, from hence to the palace gate + Make it their walk. + + + + Second Murderer + A light, a light! + + + + Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + + + Third Murderer + 'Tis he. + + + + First Murderer + Stand to't. + + + + BANQUO + It will be rain to-night. + + + + First Murderer + Let it come down. + + + + They set upon BANQUO + + + BANQUO + O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! + Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + + + + Dies. FLEANCE escapes + + + Third Murderer + Who did strike out the light? + + + + First Murderer + Wast not the way? + + + + Third Murderer + There's but one down; the son is fled. + + + + Second Murderer + We have lost + Best half of our affair. + + + + First Murderer + Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, + ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants + + + MACBETH + You know your own degrees; sit down: at first + And last the hearty welcome. + + + + Lords + Thanks to your majesty. + + + + MACBETH + Ourself will mingle with society, + And play the humble host. + Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time + We will require her welcome. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; + For my heart speaks they are welcome. + + + + First Murderer appears at the door + + + MACBETH + See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. + Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: + Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure + The table round. + Approaching the door + There's blood on thy face. + + + + First Murderer + 'Tis Banquo's then. + + + + MACBETH + 'Tis better thee without than he within. + Is he dispatch'd? + + + + First Murderer + My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + + + + MACBETH + Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good + That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, + Thou art the nonpareil. + + + + First Murderer + Most royal sir, + Fleance is 'scaped. + + + + MACBETH + Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, + Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, + As broad and general as the casing air: + But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in + To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + + + + First Murderer + Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, + With twenty trenched gashes on his head; + The least a death to nature. + + + + MACBETH + Thanks for that: + There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled + Hath nature that in time will venom breed, + No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow + We'll hear, ourselves, again. + + + + Exit Murderer + + + LADY MACBETH + My royal lord, + You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold + That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, + 'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; + From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; + Meeting were bare without it. + + + + MACBETH + Sweet remembrancer! + Now, good digestion wait on appetite, + And health on both! + + + + LENNOX + May't please your highness sit. + + + + The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in + MACBETH's place + + + MACBETH + Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, + Were the graced person of our Banquo present; + Who may I rather challenge for unkindness + Than pity for mischance! + + + + ROSS + His absence, sir, + Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness + To grace us with your royal company. + + + + MACBETH + The table's full. + + + + LENNOX + Here is a place reserved, sir. + + + + MACBETH + Where? + + + + LENNOX + Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + + + + MACBETH + Which of you have done this? + + + + Lords + What, my good lord? + + + + MACBETH + Thou canst not say I did it: never shake + Thy gory locks at me. + + + + ROSS + Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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 appal the devil. + + + + LADY MACBETH + O proper stuff! + This is the very painting of your fear: + This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, + Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, + Impostors 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 + Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! + how say you? + Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. + If charnel-houses and our graves must send + Those that we bury back, our monuments + Shall be the maws of kites. + + + + GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + + + LADY MACBETH + What, quite unmann'd in folly? + + + + MACBETH + If I stand here, I saw him. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Fie, for shame! + + + + MACBETH + Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, + Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; + Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd + Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, + That, when the brains were out, the man would die, + And there an end; but now they rise again, + With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, + And push us from our stools: this is more strange + Than such a murder is. + + + + LADY MACBETH + My worthy lord, + Your noble friends do lack you. + + + + MACBETH + I do forget. + Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, + I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing + To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; + Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. + 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. + + + + Lords + Our duties, and the pledge. + + + + Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + + + MACBETH + Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! + Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; + Thou hast no speculation in those eyes + Which thou dost glare with! + + + + LADY MACBETH + Think of this, good peers, + But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; + Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + + + + MACBETH + 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 nerves + Shall never tremble: or be alive again, + And dare me to the desert with thy sword; + If trembling I inhabit then, protest me + The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! + Unreal mockery, hence! + GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + Why, so: being gone, + I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + + + + LADY MACBETH + You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, + With most admired disorder. + + + + MACBETH + Can such things be, + And overcome us like a summer's cloud, + Without our special wonder? You make me strange + Even to the disposition that I owe, + When now I think you can behold such sights, + And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, + When mine is blanched with fear. + + + + ROSS + What sights, my lord? + + + + LADY MACBETH + 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! + + + + LADY MACBETH + A kind good night to all! + + + + Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + + + MACBETH + It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: + Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; + Augurs and understood relations have + By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth + The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + + + + MACBETH + How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person + At our great bidding? + + + + LADY MACBETH + Did you send to him, sir? + + + + MACBETH + I hear it by the way; but I will send: + There's not a one of them but in his house + I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, + And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: + More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, + By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, + All causes shall give way: I am in blood + Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, + Returning were as tedious as go o'er: + Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; + Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + + + + LADY MACBETH + You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + + + + MACBETH + Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse + Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: + We are yet but young in deed. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE V. A Heath. + Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE + + + First Witch + Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + + + + HECATE + Have I not reason, beldams as you are, + Saucy and overbold? How did you dare + To trade and traffic with Macbeth + In riddles and affairs of death; + And I, the mistress of your charms, + The close contriver of all harms, + Was never call'd to bear my part, + Or show the glory of our art? + And, which is worse, all you have done + Hath been but for a wayward son, + Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, + Loves for his own ends, not for you. + But make amends now: get you gone, + And at the pit of Acheron + Meet me i' the morning: thither he + Will come to know his destiny: + Your vessels and your spells provide, + Your charms and every thing beside. + I am for the air; this night I'll spend + Unto a dismal and a fatal end: + Great business must be wrought ere noon: + Upon the corner of the moon + There hangs a vaporous drop profound; + I'll catch it ere it come to ground: + And that distill'd by magic sleights + Shall raise such artificial sprites + As by the strength of their illusion + Shall draw him on to his confusion: + He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear + He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: + And you all know, security + Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + Music and a song within: 'Come away, come + away,' &c + Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, + Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + + + + Exit + + + First Witch + Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + Enter LENNOX and another Lord + + + LENNOX + My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, + Which can interpret further: only, I say, + Things have been strangely borne. The + gracious Duncan + Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: + And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; + Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, + For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. + Who cannot want the thought how monstrous + It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain + To kill their gracious father? damned fact! + How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight + In pious rage the two delinquents tear, + That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? + Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; + For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive + To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, + He has borne all things well: and I do think + That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- + As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they + should find + What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. + But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd + His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear + Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell + Where he bestows himself? + + + + Lord + The son of Duncan, + From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth + Lives in the English court, and is received + Of the most pious Edward with such grace + That the malevolence of fortune nothing + Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff + Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid + To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: + That, by the help of these--with Him above + To ratify the work--we may again + Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, + Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, + Do faithful homage and receive free honours: + All which we pine for now: and this report + Hath so exasperate the king that he + Prepares for some attempt of war. + + + + LENNOX + Sent he to Macduff? + + + + Lord + He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' + The cloudy messenger turns me his back, + And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time + That clogs me with this answer.' + + + + LENNOX + And that well might + Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance + His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel + Fly to the court of England and unfold + His message ere he come, that a swift blessing + May soon return to this our suffering country + Under a hand accursed! + + + + Lord + I'll send my prayers with him. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + ACT IV + + SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + Thunder. Enter the three Witches + + + First Witch + Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + + + + Second Witch + Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + + + + Third Witch + Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + + + + First Witch + Round about the cauldron go; + In the poison'd entrails throw. + Toad, that under cold stone + Days and nights has thirty-one + Swelter'd venom sleeping got, + Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + + + + ALL + Double, double toil and trouble; + Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + + + + Second Witch + Fillet of a fenny snake, + In the cauldron boil and bake; + Eye of newt and toe of frog, + Wool of bat and tongue of dog, + Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, + Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, + For a charm of powerful trouble, + Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + + + + ALL + Double, double toil and trouble; + Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + + + + Third Witch + Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, + Witches' mummy, maw and gulf + Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, + Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, + Liver of blaspheming Jew, + Gall of goat, and slips of yew + Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, + Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, + Finger of birth-strangled babe + Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, + Make the gruel thick and slab: + Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, + For the ingredients of our cauldron. + + + + ALL + Double, double toil and trouble; + Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + + + + Second Witch + Cool it with a baboon's blood, + Then the charm is firm and good. + + + + Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + + + HECATE + O well done! I commend your pains; + And every one shall share i' the gains; + And now about the cauldron sing, + Live elves and fairies in a ring, + Enchanting all that you put in. + + + Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' &c + HECATE retires + + + Second Witch + By the pricking of my thumbs, + Something wicked this way comes. + Open, locks, + Whoever knocks! + + + + Enter MACBETH + + + MACBETH + How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! + What is't you do? + + + + ALL + A deed without a name. + + + + MACBETH + I conjure you, by that which you profess, + Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: + Though you untie the winds and let them fight + Against the churches; though the yesty waves + Confound and swallow navigation up; + Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; + Though castles topple on their warders' heads; + Though palaces and pyramids do slope + Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure + Of nature's germens tumble all together, + Even till destruction sicken; answer me + To what I ask you. + + + + First Witch + Speak. + + + + Second Witch + Demand. + + + + Third Witch + We'll answer. + + + + First Witch + Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, + Or from our masters? + + + + MACBETH + Call 'em; let me see 'em. + + + + First Witch + Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten + Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten + From the murderer's gibbet throw + Into the flame. + + + + ALL + Come, high or low; + Thyself and office deftly show! + + + + Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + + + MACBETH + Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + + + + First Witch + He knows thy thought: + Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + + + + First Apparition + Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; + Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + + + + Descends + + + MACBETH + Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; + Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one + word more,-- + + + + First Witch + He will not be commanded: here's another, + More potent than the first. + + + + Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + + + Second Apparition + Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + + + + MACBETH + Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + + + + Second Apparition + Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn + The power of man, for none of woman born + Shall harm Macbeth. + + + + Descends + + + MACBETH + Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? + But yet I'll make assurance double sure, + And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; + That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, + And sleep in spite of thunder. + Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, + with a tree in his hand + What is this + That rises like the issue of a king, + And wears upon his baby-brow the round + And top of sovereignty? + + + + ALL + Listen, but speak not to't. + + + + Third Apparition + Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care + Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: + Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until + Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill + Shall come against him. + + + + Descends + + + MACBETH + That will never be + Who can impress the forest, bid the tree + Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! + Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood + Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth + Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath + To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart + Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art + Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever + Reign in this kingdom? + + + + ALL + Seek to know no more. + + + + MACBETH + I will be satisfied: deny me this, + And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. + Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + + + + Hautboys + + + First Witch + Show! + + + + Second Witch + Show! + + + + Third Witch + Show! + + + + ALL + Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; + Come like shadows, so depart! + + + + A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in + his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + + + MACBETH + Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! + Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, + Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. + A third is like the former. Filthy hags! + Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! + What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? + Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: + And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass + Which shows me many more; and some I see + That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: + Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; + For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, + And points at them for his. + Apparitions vanish + What, is this so? + + + + First Witch + Ay, sir, all this is so: but why + Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? + Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, + And show the best of our delights: + I'll charm the air to give a sound, + While you perform your antic round: + That this great king may kindly say, + Our duties did his welcome pay. + + + + Music. The witches dance and then vanish, + with HECATE + + + MACBETH + Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour + Stand aye accursed in the calendar! + Come in, without there! + + + + Enter LENNOX + + + LENNOX + What's your grace's will? + + + + MACBETH + Saw you the weird sisters? + + + + LENNOX + No, my lord. + + + + MACBETH + Came they not by you? + + + + LENNOX + No, indeed, my lord. + + + + MACBETH + Infected be the air whereon they ride; + And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear + The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + + + + LENNOX + 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word + Macduff is fled to England. + + + + MACBETH + Fled to England! + + + + LENNOX + Ay, my good lord. + + + + MACBETH + Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: + The flighty purpose never is o'ertook + Unless the deed go with it; from this moment + The very firstlings of my heart shall be + The firstlings of my hand. And even now, + To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: + The castle of Macduff I will surprise; + Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword + His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls + That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; + This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. + But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? + Come, bring me where they are. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS + + + LADY MACDUFF + What had he done, to make him fly the land? + + + + ROSS + You must have patience, madam. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + He had none: + His flight was madness: when our actions do not, + Our fears do make us traitors. + + + + ROSS + You know not + Whether it was his wisdom 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. + + + + ROSS + My dearest coz, + I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, + He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows + The fits o' the season. I dare not speak + much further; + But cruel are the times, when we are traitors + And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour + From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, + But float upon a wild and violent sea + Each way and move. I take my leave of you: + Shall not be long but I'll be here again: + Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward + To what they were before. My pretty cousin, + Blessing upon you! + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + + + + ROSS + I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, + It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: + I take my leave at once. + + + + Exit + + + LADY MACDUFF + Sirrah, your father's dead; + And what will you do now? How will you live? + + + + Son + As birds do, mother. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + What, with worms and flies? + + + + Son + With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, + The pitfall nor the gin. + + + + Son + Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. + My father is not dead, for all your saying. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + + + + Son + Nay, how will you do for a husband? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + + + + Son + Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, + With wit enough for thee. + + + + Son + Was my father a traitor, mother? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Ay, that he was. + + + + Son + What is a traitor? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Why, one that swears and lies. + + + + Son + And be all traitors that do so? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + + + + Son + And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Every one. + + + + Son + Who must hang them? + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Why, the honest men. + + + + Son + Then the liars and swearers are fools, + for there are liars and swearers enow to beat + the honest men and hang up them. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Now, God help thee, poor monkey! + But how wilt thou do for a father? + + + + Son + If he were dead, you'ld weep for + him: if you would not, it were a good sign + that I should quickly have a new father. + + + + LADY MACDUFF + Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + + + + Enter a Messenger + + + Messenger + Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, + Though in your state of honour I am perfect. + I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: + If you will take a homely man's advice, + Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. + To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; + To do worse to you were fell cruelty, + Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! + I dare abide no longer. + + + + Exit + + + 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 defence, + To say I have done no harm? + Enter Murderers + What are these faces? + + + + 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! + Stabbing him + Young fry of treachery! + + + + Son + He has kill'd me, mother: + Run away, I pray you! + + + Dies + Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt + Murderers, following her + + + SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF + + + MALCOLM + Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there + Weep our sad bosoms empty. + + + + MACDUFF + Let us rather + Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men + Bestride our down-fall'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 yell'd out + Like syllable of dolour. + + + + MALCOLM + What I believe I'll wail, + What know believe, and what I can redress, + As I shall find the time to friend, I will. + What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. + This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, + Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. + He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; + but something + You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom + To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb + To appease an angry god. + + + + MACDUFF + I am not treacherous. + + + + MALCOLM + But Macbeth is. + A good and virtuous nature may recoil + In an imperial charge. But I shall crave + your pardon; + That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: + Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; + Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, + Yet grace must still look so. + + + + MACDUFF + I have lost my hopes. + + + + MALCOLM + Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. + Why in that rawness left you wife and child, + Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, + Without leave-taking? I pray you, + Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, + But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, + Whatever I shall think. + + + + MACDUFF + Bleed, bleed, poor country! + Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, + For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou + thy wrongs; + The title is affeer'd! 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. + + + + MALCOLM + Be not offended: + I speak not as in absolute fear of you. + I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; + It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash + Is added to her wounds: I think withal + There would be hands uplifted in my right; + And here from gracious England have I offer + Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, + When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, + Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country + Shall have more vices than it had before, + More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, + By him that shall succeed. + + + + MACDUFF + What should he be? + + + + MALCOLM + It is myself I mean: in whom I know + All the particulars of vice so grafted + That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth + Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state + Esteem him as a lamb, being compared + With my confineless harms. + + + + MACDUFF + Not in the legions + Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd + In evils to top Macbeth. + + + + MALCOLM + I grant him bloody, + Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, + Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin + That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, + In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, + Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up + The cistern of my lust, and my desire + All continent impediments would o'erbear + That did oppose my will: better Macbeth + Than such an one to reign. + + + + MACDUFF + Boundless intemperance + In nature is a tyranny; it hath been + The 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. + + + + MALCOLM + With this there grows + In my most ill-composed affection such + A stanchless avarice that, were I king, + I should cut off the nobles for their lands, + Desire his jewels and this other's house: + And my more-having would be as a sauce + To make me hunger more; that I should forge + Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, + Destroying them for wealth. + + + + MACDUFF + 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 weigh'd. + + + + MALCOLM + But I have none: the king-becoming graces, + As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, + Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, + Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, + I have no relish of them, but abound + In the division of each several crime, + Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should + Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, + Uproar the universal peace, confound + All unity on earth. + + + + MACDUFF + O Scotland, Scotland! + + + + MALCOLM + If such a one be fit to govern, speak: + I am as I have spoken. + + + + MACDUFF + Fit to govern! + No, not to live. O nation miserable, + With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, + 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, + Oftener upon her knees than on her feet, + Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! + These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself + Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast, + Thy hope ends here! + + + + MALCOLM + Macduff, this noble passion, + Child of integrity, hath from my soul + Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts + To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth + By many of these trains hath sought to win me + Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me + From over-credulous haste: but God above + Deal between thee and me! for even now + I put myself to thy direction, and + Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure + The taints and blames I laid upon myself, + For strangers to my nature. I am yet + Unknown to woman, never was forsworn, + Scarcely have coveted what was mine own, + At no time broke my faith, would not betray + The devil to his fellow and delight + No less in truth than life: my first false speaking + Was this upon myself: what I am truly, + Is thine and my poor country's to command: + Whither indeed, before thy here-approach, + Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, + Already at a point, was setting forth. + Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness + Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent? + + + + MACDUFF + Such welcome and unwelcome things at once + 'Tis hard to reconcile. + + + + Enter a Doctor + + + MALCOLM + Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you? + + + + Doctor + Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls + That stay his cure: their malady convinces + The great assay of art; but at his touch-- + Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand-- + They presently amend. + + + + MALCOLM + I thank you, doctor. + + + + Exit Doctor + + + MACDUFF + What's the disease he means? + + + + MALCOLM + 'Tis call'd the evil: + A most miraculous work in this good king; + Which often, since my here-remain in England, + I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, + Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people, + All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, + The mere despair of surgery, he cures, + Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, + Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken, + To the succeeding royalty he leaves + The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, + He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, + And sundry blessings hang about his throne, + That speak him full of grace. + + + + Enter ROSS + + + MACDUFF + See, who comes here? + + + + MALCOLM + My countryman; but yet I know him not. + + + + MACDUFF + My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. + + + + MALCOLM + I know him now. Good God, betimes remove + The means that makes us strangers! + + + + ROSS + Sir, amen. + + + + MACDUFF + Stands Scotland where it did? + + + + ROSS + Alas, poor country! + Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot + Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing, + But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; + Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air + Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems + A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell + Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives + Expire before the flowers in their caps, + Dying or ere they sicken. + + + + MACDUFF + O, relation + Too nice, and yet too true! + + + + MALCOLM + What's the newest grief? + + + + ROSS + That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker: + Each minute teems a new one. + + + + MACDUFF + How does my wife? + + + + ROSS + Why, well. + + + + MACDUFF + And all my children? + + + + ROSS + Well too. + + + + MACDUFF + The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? + + + + ROSS + No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em. + + + + MACDUFF + But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't? + + + + ROSS + When I came hither to transport the tidings, + Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour + Of many worthy fellows that were out; + Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, + For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot: + Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland + Would create soldiers, make our women fight, + To doff their dire distresses. + + + + MALCOLM + Be't their comfort + We are coming thither: gracious England hath + Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men; + An older and a better soldier none + That Christendom gives out. + + + + ROSS + Would I could answer + This comfort with the like! But I have words + That would be howl'd out in the desert air, + Where hearing should not latch them. + + + + MACDUFF + What concern they? + The general cause? or is it a fee-grief + Due to some single breast? + + + + ROSS + No mind that's honest + But in it shares some woe; though the main part + Pertains to you alone. + + + + MACDUFF + If it be mine, + Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. + + + + ROSS + Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, + Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound + That ever yet they heard. + + + + MACDUFF + Hum! I guess at it. + + + + ROSS + Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes + Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, + Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer, + To add the death of you. + + + + MALCOLM + Merciful heaven! + What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; + Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak + Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. + + + + MACDUFF + My children too? + + + + ROSS + Wife, children, servants, all + That could be found. + + + + MACDUFF + And I must be from thence! + My wife kill'd too? + + + + ROSS + I have said. + + + + MALCOLM + Be comforted: + Let's make us medicines of our great revenge, + To cure this deadly grief. + + + + MACDUFF + 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? + + + + 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. 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! + + + + MALCOLM + Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief + Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. + + + + MACDUFF + 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! + + + + MALCOLM + This tune goes manly. + Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; + Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth + Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above + Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may: + The night is long that never finds the day. + + + + Exeunt + + + + + ACT V + + SCENE I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle. + Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman + + + Doctor + I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive + no truth in your report. When was it she last walked? + + + + Gentlewoman + Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen + her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon + her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, + write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again + return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep. + + + + Doctor + A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once + the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of + watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her + walking and other actual performances, what, at any + time, have you heard her say? + + + + Gentlewoman + That, sir, which I will not report after her. + + + + Doctor + You may to me: and 'tis most meet you should. + + + + Gentlewoman + Neither to you nor any one; having no witness to + confirm my speech. + Enter LADY MACBETH, with a taper + Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; + and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close. + + + + Doctor + How came she by that light? + + + + Gentlewoman + Why, it stood by her: she has light by her + continually; 'tis her command. + + + + Doctor + You see, her eyes are open. + + + + Gentlewoman + Ay, but their sense is shut. + + + + Doctor + What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands. + + + + Gentlewoman + It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus + washing her hands: I have known her continue in + this a quarter of an hour. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Yet here's a spot. + + + + Doctor + Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from + her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why, + then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my + lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we + fear who knows it, when none 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? + + + + LADY MACBETH + The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?-- + What, will these hands ne'er be clean?--No more o' + that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with + this starting. + + + + Doctor + Go to, go to; you have known what you should not. + + + + Gentlewoman + She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of + that: heaven knows what she has known. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Here's the smell of the blood still: all the + perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little + hand. Oh, oh, oh! + + + + Doctor + What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged. + + + + Gentlewoman + I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the + dignity of the whole body. + + + + Doctor + Well, well, well,-- + + + + Gentlewoman + Pray God it be, sir. + + + + Doctor + This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known + those which have walked in their sleep who have died + holily in their beds. + + + + LADY MACBETH + Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so + pale.--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he + cannot come out on's grave. + + + + Doctor + Even so? + + + + LADY MACBETH + To bed, to bed! there's knocking at the gate: + come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's + done cannot be undone.--To bed, to bed, to bed! + + + + Exit + + + Doctor + Will she go now to bed? + + + + Gentlewoman + Directly. + + + + Doctor + Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds + Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds + To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets: + More needs she the divine than the physician. + God, God forgive us all! Look after her; + Remove from her the means of all annoyance, + And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night: + My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight. + I think, but dare not speak. + + + + Gentlewoman + Good night, good doctor. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE II. The country near Dunsinane. + Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, + LENNOX, and Soldiers + + + MENTEITH + The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, + His uncle Siward and the good Macduff: + Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes + Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm + Excite the mortified man. + + + + ANGUS + Near Birnam wood + Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. + + + + CAITHNESS + Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? + + + + LENNOX + For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file + Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son, + And many unrough youths that even now + Protest their first of manhood. + + + + MENTEITH + What does the tyrant? + + + + CAITHNESS + Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies: + Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him + Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain, + He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause + Within the belt of rule. + + + + ANGUS + Now does he feel + His secret murders sticking on his hands; + Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; + Those he commands move only in command, + Nothing in love: now does he feel his title + Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe + Upon a dwarfish thief. + + + + MENTEITH + Who then shall blame + His pester'd senses to recoil and start, + When all that is within him does condemn + Itself for being there? + + + + CAITHNESS + Well, march we on, + To give obedience where 'tis truly owed: + Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal, + And with him pour we in our country's purge + Each drop of us. + + + + LENNOX + Or so much as it needs, + To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds. + Make we our march towards Birnam. + + + + Exeunt, marching + + + SCENE III. Dunsinane. A room in the castle. + Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants + + + MACBETH + Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: + Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, + I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? + Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know + All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus: + 'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman + Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly, + false thanes, + And mingle with the English epicures: + The mind I sway by and the heart I bear + Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear. + Enter a Servant + The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! + Where got'st thou that goose look? + + + + Servant + There is ten thousand-- + + + + MACBETH + Geese, villain! + + + + Servant + Soldiers, sir. + + + + MACBETH + Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, + Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? + Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine + Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? + + + + Servant + The English force, so please you. + + + + MACBETH + Take thy face hence. + Exit Servant + Seyton!--I am sick at heart, + When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push + Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now. + I have lived long enough: my way of life + Is fall'n 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. Seyton! + + + + Enter SEYTON + + + SEYTON + What is your gracious pleasure? + + + + MACBETH + What news more? + + + + SEYTON + All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. + + + + MACBETH + I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd. + Give me my armour. + + + + SEYTON + 'Tis not needed yet. + + + + MACBETH + I'll put it on. + Send out more horses; skirr the country round; + Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. + How does your patient, doctor? + + + + Doctor + Not so sick, my lord, + As she is troubled with thick coming fancies, + That keep her from her rest. + + + + MACBETH + Cure her of that. + Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, + 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 stuff + Which weighs upon the heart? + + + + Doctor + Therein the patient + Must minister to himself. + + + + MACBETH + Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it. + Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff. + Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me. + Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast + The water of my land, find her disease, + And purge it to a sound and pristine health, + I would applaud thee to the very echo, + That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.-- + What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug, + Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them? + + + + Doctor + Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation + Makes us hear something. + + + + MACBETH + Bring it after me. + I will not be afraid of death and bane, + Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. + + + + Doctor + Aside Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, + Profit again should hardly draw me here. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE IV. Country near Birnam wood. + Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG + SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, + LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching + + + MALCOLM + Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand + That chambers will be safe. + + + + MENTEITH + We doubt it nothing. + + + + SIWARD + What wood is this before us? + + + + MENTEITH + The wood of Birnam. + + + + MALCOLM + Let every soldier hew him down a bough + And bear't before him: thereby shall we shadow + The numbers of our host and make discovery + Err in report of us. + + + + Soldiers + It shall be done. + + + + SIWARD + We learn no other but the confident tyrant + Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure + Our setting down before 't. + + + + MALCOLM + 'Tis his main hope: + For where there is advantage to be given, + Both more and less have given him the revolt, + And none serve with him but constrained things + Whose hearts are absent too. + + + + MACDUFF + Let our just censures + Attend the true event, and put we on + Industrious soldiership. + + + + SIWARD + The time approaches + That will with due decision make us know + What we shall say we have and what we owe. + Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, + But certain issue strokes must arbitrate: + Towards which advance the war. + + + + Exeunt, marching + + + SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle. + Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum + and colours + + + MACBETH + Hang out our banners on the outward walls; + The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength + Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie + Till famine and the ague eat them up: + Were they not forced with those that should be ours, + We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, + And beat them backward home. + A cry of women within + What is that noise? + + + + SEYTON + It is the cry of women, my good lord. + + + + Exit + + + MACBETH + I have almost forgot the taste of fears; + The time has been, my senses would have cool'd + To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair + Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir + As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; + Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts + Cannot once start me. + Re-enter SEYTON + Wherefore was that cry? + + + + SEYTON + The queen, my lord, is dead. + + + + MACBETH + She should have died hereafter; + There would have been a time for such a word. + To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, + Creeps in this petty pace from day to day + To the last syllable of recorded time, + And all our yesterdays have lighted fools + The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! + Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player + That struts and frets his hour upon the stage + And then is heard no more: it is a tale + Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, + Signifying nothing. + Enter a Messenger + Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. + + + + Messenger + Gracious my lord, + I should report that which I say I saw, + But know not how to do it. + + + + MACBETH + Well, say, sir. + + + + Messenger + As I did stand my watch upon the hill, + I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, + The wood began to move. + + + + MACBETH + Liar and slave! + + + + Messenger + Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: + Within this three mile may you see it coming; + I say, a moving grove. + + + + MACBETH + If thou speak'st false, + Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, + Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, + I care not if thou dost for me as much. + I pull in resolution, and begin + To doubt the equivocation of the fiend + That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood + Do come to Dunsinane:' and now a wood + Comes 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. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE VI. Dunsinane. Before the castle. + Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, + and their Army, with boughs + + + MALCOLM + Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down. + And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle, + Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son, + Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we + Shall take upon 's what else remains to do, + According to our order. + + + + SIWARD + Fare you well. + Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, + Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. + + + + MACDUFF + Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, + Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. + + + + Exeunt + + + SCENE VII. Another part of the field. + Alarums. Enter MACBETH + + + MACBETH + They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, + But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he + That was not born of woman? Such a one + Am I to fear, or none. + + + + Enter YOUNG SIWARD + + + YOUNG SIWARD + What is thy name? + + + + MACBETH + Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. + + + + YOUNG SIWARD + No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name + Than any is in hell. + + + + MACBETH + My name's Macbeth. + + + + YOUNG SIWARD + The devil himself could not pronounce a title + More hateful to mine ear. + + + + MACBETH + No, nor more fearful. + + + + YOUNG SIWARD + Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword + I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. + + + + They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain + + + MACBETH + Thou wast born of woman + But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, + Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. + + + Exit + Alarums. Enter MACDUFF + + + MACDUFF + That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face! + If thou be'st 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 unbatter'd 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. + + + Exit. Alarums + Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD + + + SIWARD + This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd: + The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; + The noble thanes do bravely in the war; + The day almost itself professes yours, + And little is to do. + + + + MALCOLM + We have met with foes + That strike beside us. + + + + SIWARD + Enter, sir, the castle. + + + + Exeunt. Alarums + + + SCENE VIII. Another part of the field. + Enter MACBETH + + + MACBETH + Why should I play the Roman fool, and die + On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes + Do better upon them. + + + + Enter MACDUFF + + + MACDUFF + Turn, hell-hound, turn! + + + + MACBETH + Of all men else I have avoided thee: + But get thee back; my soul is too much charged + With blood of thine already. + + + + MACDUFF + I have no words: + My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain + Than terms can give thee out! + + + + They fight + + + MACBETH + Thou losest labour: + As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air + With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed: + Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; + I bear a charmed life, which must not yield, + To one of woman born. + + + + MACDUFF + Despair thy charm; + And let the angel whom thou still hast served + Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb + Untimely ripp'd. + + + + MACBETH + Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, + For it hath cow'd my better part of man! + And be these juggling fiends no more believed, + That palter with us in a double sense; + That keep the word of promise to our ear, + And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee. + + + + MACDUFF + 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.' + + + + MACBETH + 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!' + + + Exeunt, fighting. Alarums + Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, + MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers + + + MALCOLM + I would the friends we miss were safe arrived. + + + + SIWARD + Some must go off: and yet, by these I see, + So great a day as this is cheaply bought. + + + + MALCOLM + Macduff is missing, and your noble son. + + + + ROSS + Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt: + He only lived but till he was a man; + The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd + In the unshrinking station where he fought, + But like a man he died. + + + + SIWARD + Then he is dead? + + + + ROSS + Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow + Must not be measured by his worth, for then + It hath no end. + + + + SIWARD + Had he his hurts before? + + + + ROSS + Ay, on the front. + + + + SIWARD + Why then, God's soldier be he! + Had I as many sons as I have hairs, + I would not wish them to a fairer death: + And so, his knell is knoll'd. + + + + MALCOLM + He's worth more sorrow, + And that I'll spend for him. + + + + SIWARD + He's worth no more + They say he parted well, and paid his score: + And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort. + + + + Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head + + + MACDUFF + Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands + The usurper's cursed head: the time is free: + I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl, + That speak my salutation in their minds; + Whose voices I desire aloud with mine: + Hail, King of Scotland! + + + + ALL + Hail, King of Scotland! + + + + Flourish + + + MALCOLM + We shall not spend a large expense of time + Before we reckon with your several loves, + And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, + Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland + In such an honour named. What's more to do, + Which would be planted newly with the time, + As calling home our exiled friends abroad + That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; + Producing forth the cruel ministers + Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen, + Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands + Took off her life; this, and what needful else + That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, + We will perform in measure, time and place: + So, thanks to all at once and to each one, + Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone. + + + + Flourish. Exeunt + + + + http_version: + recorded_at: Thu, 26 Dec 2013 15:47:54 GMT +recorded_with: VCR 2.8.0 diff --git a/features/macbeth_analyzer.feature b/features/macbeth_analyzer.feature new file mode 100644 index 0000000..65fea47 --- /dev/null +++ b/features/macbeth_analyzer.feature @@ -0,0 +1,7 @@ +Feature: Macbeth Analyzer + + @vcr + Scenario: Lines per character + When I run `ruby macbeth_analyzer.rb` + Then the output should contain "718 Macbeth" + Then the output should contain "180 Macduff" diff --git a/features/support/env.rb b/features/support/env.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8f8c6b --- /dev/null +++ b/features/support/env.rb @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +require 'aruba' +require 'aruba/in_process' +require 'aruba/cucumber' +require_relative '../../macbeth_analyzer' + +Aruba::InProcess.main_class = MyMain +Aruba.process = Aruba::InProcess + +Before do + @dirs = ["."] +end diff --git a/features/support/vcr.rb b/features/support/vcr.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12b519f --- /dev/null +++ b/features/support/vcr.rb @@ -0,0 +1,10 @@ +require 'vcr' + +VCR.configure do |c| + c.hook_into :webmock + c.cassette_library_dir = 'features/cassettes' +end + +VCR.cucumber_tags do |t| + t.tag '@vcr', :use_scenario_name => true +end diff --git a/lib/ibiblio.rb b/lib/ibiblio.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2dd13c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/lib/ibiblio.rb @@ -0,0 +1,17 @@ +require 'open-uri' + +module Catalogue + def find(play) + raise NotImplementedError + end +end + +class Ibiblio + extend Catalogue + + URI = "http://www.ibiblio.org/xml/examples/shakespeare/%{play}.xml" + + def self.find(play) + open(URI % {:play => play.downcase}) + end +end diff --git a/macbeth_analyzer.rb b/macbeth_analyzer.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6ce4d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/macbeth_analyzer.rb @@ -0,0 +1,86 @@ +require 'nokogiri' +require_relative 'lib/ibiblio' + +class MyMain + def initialize(argv, stdin=STDIN, stdout=STDOUT, stderr=STDERR, kernel=Kernel) + @argv, @stdin, @stdout, @stderr, @kernel = argv, stdin, stdout, stderr, kernel + end + + def execute! + $stdin = @stdin + $stdout = @stdout + + Nokogiri::XML(Ibiblio.find('Macbeth')).search('SPEECH').inject(Hash.new(0)) do |obj, speech| + speaker = speech.search('SPEAKER').text.capitalize + lines = speech.search('LINE').count + obj.tap { |o| o[speaker] += lines } + end.sort_by {|a, b| -b}.each { |speaker, count| puts "#{count.to_s.rjust(3)} #{speaker}" } + end +end + +MyMain.new(ARGV.dup).execute! + +# Ibiblio.find('Macbeth').speeches.inject(Hash.new(0)) do |obj, speech| +# obj.tap { |o| o[speech.speaker] += speech.length } +# end + +# PlayAnalyzer.new(Ibiblio.find('Macbeth')).lines_by_character.each do |lines_count, character| +# puts "#{lines_count.to_s.rjust(3)} #{character}" +# end + +# LinesCounter.new(Ibiblio.find('Macbeth')).sort(:desc).each do |count, character| +# puts "#{count.to_s.rjust(3)} #{character}" +# end + +class Play + SPEECH = 'SPEECH' + SPEAKER = 'SPEAKER' + LINE = 'LINE' + + def initialize(play) + @play = play + end + + def speeches + @speeches ||= @play.search(SPEECH).map do |speech| + Speech.new(speaker, lines) + end + end + + private + + def parse_speeches(xml) + xml.search(SPEECH) + end + + def parse_speaker(xml) + xml.search(SPEAKER) + end + + def parse_lines(xml) + xml.seach(LINE) + end +end + +class EmptyPlay + def speeches + [] + end +end + +class Speech < Struct.new(:speaker, :lines) + def length + lines.count + end +end + +# a catalogue returns a play +# a play has a number of speeches +# a speech has a speaker and a collection of lines + +# play = Ibiblio.find('Macbeth') + +# downloading / catalogue? +# xml parsing +# play/speech/lines +# counter/aggregator diff --git a/spec/lib/ibiblio_spec.rb b/spec/lib/ibiblio_spec.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6ec31a --- /dev/null +++ b/spec/lib/ibiblio_spec.rb @@ -0,0 +1,31 @@ +require 'ibiblio' + +shared_examples "a Catalogue" do + subject(:catalogue) { described_class } + it { should respond_to :find } +end + +describe Ibiblio do + it_behaves_like "a Catalogue" + + describe "finding a play" do + context "that exists" do + + end + + context "that doesn't exist" do + + end + + let!(:request) { stub_request(:get, "http://www.ibiblio.org/xml/examples/shakespeare/macbeth.xml") } + + it "makes a request to ibiblio.org" do + Ibiblio.find('Macbeth') + expect(request).to have_been_made + end + + it "returns a Play" do + + end + end +end diff --git a/spec/spec_helper.rb b/spec/spec_helper.rb new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4640313 --- /dev/null +++ b/spec/spec_helper.rb @@ -0,0 +1,18 @@ +require 'webmock/rspec' +# This file was generated by the `rspec --init` command. Conventionally, all +# specs live under a `spec` directory, which RSpec adds to the `$LOAD_PATH`. +# Require this file using `require "spec_helper"` to ensure that it is only +# loaded once. +# +# See http://rubydoc.info/gems/rspec-core/RSpec/Core/Configuration +RSpec.configure do |config| + config.treat_symbols_as_metadata_keys_with_true_values = true + config.run_all_when_everything_filtered = true + config.filter_run :focus + + # Run specs in random order to surface order dependencies. If you find an + # order dependency and want to debug it, you can fix the order by providing + # the seed, which is printed after each run. + # --seed 1234 + config.order = 'random' +end