Scene I

[Inverness. Court of Macbeth's castle.]

Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch* before him.

BANQUO:

How goes the night, boy?

BANQUO:

How’s your night going, boy?

FLEANCE:

The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

FLEANCE:

The moon’s down. I haven’t heard the clock chime.

BANQUO:

And she goes down at twelve.

BANQUO:

The moon goes down at twelve.

FLEANCE:

I take't ’tis later, sir.

FLEANCE:

I think it’s later than that, sir.

BANQUO:

Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven,(5)
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!(10)

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a Torch.]

Give me my sword.
Who's there?

BANQUO:

Stop, take my sword. They are saving light in heaven.
Their candles are all out. You take that, too.
A serious calling lies on me like lead,
And still I couldn't sleep. Merciful powers,
Hold me back from the cursed thoughts that nature
Gives way to when we sleep! Give me my sword.
Who's there?

MACBETH:

A friend.

MACBETH:

A friend.

BANQUO:

What, sir, not yet at rest? The King's a-bed.
He hath been in unusual pleasure and(15)
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.

BANQUO:

What, sir, not in bed yet? The king's in bed.
He has been unusually pleased and
Sent great generous gifts to your officers.
He greets your wife with this diamond, calling her
By the name of “most kind hostess,” and he went to bed
Contented beyond measure.

MACBETH:

Being unprepared,(20)
Our will became the servant to defect,
Which else should free have wrought.

MACBETH:

Being unprepared,
Our wishes became the servants to what we lacked,
Which has worked out very well.

BANQUO:

All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.(25)

BANQUO:

All's well.
Last night, I dreamed about the three weird sisters.
They have shown some truth to you.

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.

MACBETH:

I don’t think about them.
Yet, when we can find an hour we’re both free,
We should talk about that business,
If you can spare the time.

BANQUO:

At your kind'st leisure.(30)

BANQUO:

Whenever you like.

MACBETH:

If you shall cleave to my consent, when ’tis,
It shall make honor for you.

MACBETH:

If you agree with my opinion, when it is time,
It’ll be more honor for you.

BANQUO:

So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,(35)
I shall be counsell'd.

BANQUO:

So I don’t lose any honor
In seeking to make my honor grow, only if I can still keep
My heart free and allegiance clear,
I’ll come to a decision.

MACBETH:

Good repose the while.

MACBETH:

Good rest in the meantime!

BANQUO:

Thanks, sir, the like to you.

BANQUO:

Thanks, sir. The same 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.(40)

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(45)
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,(50)
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:(55)
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd Murder,(60)
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(65)
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.(70)
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

MACBETH:

Go tell your mistress that, when my drink is ready,
She should ring the bell. Get to bed. Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle pointed toward my hand? Come, let me clutch you.
I don’t hold you, and yet I still see you!
Are you, fatal vision, as insensitive
To feeling as you are to sight? Or are you only
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the brain oppressed by heat?
I still see you, in form as evident to my touch
As the one I now draw.
You guide me on the way that I was going,
And show me the instrument I was to use.
My eyes are made the fools of by the other senses,
Or else my eyes are worth all the rest. I still see you,
And I see great, large clots of blood on your blade,
Which were not there before. There's no such thing.
It is the bloody business I’ve planned that makes
Me see you. Now, over the one half-world
Sleep makes people seem dead, and wicked dreams abuse
Their sleep in beds with curtains. Now witchcraft celebrates
Offerings to the pale goddess of magic. And decayed murder,
Alarmed by his watchman, the wolf,
Who howls as he watches, and in this sneaky way,
With ravishing strides like Tarquin, the ancient king, moves like a ghost
Towards his target. Sure and firm-set earth,
Don’t hear my steps, which ever way they walk, for fear
Your very stones disclose my whereabouts,
And take the current horror from the time,
Which now suits it. While I threaten, he lives;
Words give breath to the heat of deeds that are too cold.
I go, and it’s done; the bell invites me.
Don’t hear it, Duncan, for it is a sorrowful omen of death
That summons you to heaven or to hell.

Exit.