Listen to Act 2. LibriVox volunteers recorded “Act 2” as one track, so it runs past this scene and includes stage directions this page leaves out. LibriVox catalog.
PORTER
Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the key. Knock, knock, knock. Who’s there, i’ th’ name of Belzebub? 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. Knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ th’ 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. Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there? Faith, here’s an English tailor come , for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. 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 th’ everlasting bonfire. , ! I pray you, remember the porter.
MACDUFF
Was it so late, friend, 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 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 master stirring?
MACDUFF
Our knocking has awak’d 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 one.
MACBETH
The labour we delight in physics pain. This is the door.
MACDUFF
I’ll make so bold to call. For my limited service.
LENNOX
Goes the King today?
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’ th’ air, strange screams of death, And prophesying, with accents terrible, Of dire combustion and confus’d events, New hatch’d to the woeful time. The obscure bird Clamour’d the live-long night. Some say the earth Was feverous, and did shake.
MACBETH
a rough night.
LENNOX
My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.
MACDUFF
O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name !
MACBETH, LENNOX
What’s the matter?
MACDUFF
Confusion now made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder broke ope The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole The life o’ th’ 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.
MACDUFF
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!
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, not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman’s ear, Would murder as it fell.
MACDUFF
O Banquo, Banquo! Our royal master’s murder’d!
LADY MACBETH
Woe, alas! What, in our house?
BANQUO
Too cruel anywhere.— Dear Duff, I , contradict thyself, And say it is not so.
MACBETH
Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv’d a blessed time; for, from this instant There’s nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
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 all badg’d with blood; So were their daggers, which, unwip’d, we found Upon their pillows. They star’d, 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
did you so?
MACBETH
Who can be wise, amaz’d, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: Th’ expedition of my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac’d 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 , ho!
MACDUFF
Look to the lady.
MALCOLM
Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours?
DONALBAIN
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
Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion.
BANQUO
Look to the lady:—
BANQUO
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 Against the undivulg’d 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’ th’ hall together.
ALL
Well contented.
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 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.