From f83d88ec7c27c5d9fd069babb2ee18a2e71c336d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Marty Miller Date: Sat, 17 May 2014 19:41:40 +0200 Subject: [PATCH 1/2] Adding macbeth, init file, and the latex generator --- __init__.py | 0 examples/macbeth.txt | 3287 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ latex_pdf.py | 116 ++ 3 files changed, 3403 insertions(+) create mode 100644 __init__.py create mode 100644 examples/macbeth.txt create mode 100644 latex_pdf.py diff --git a/__init__.py b/__init__.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e69de29 diff --git a/examples/macbeth.txt b/examples/macbeth.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86a8db9 --- /dev/null +++ b/examples/macbeth.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3287 @@ +The Tragedie of Macbeth + +The Tragedie of Macbeth + +Actus Primus. Scoena Prima. + +Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches. + + 1. When shall we three meet againe? +In Thunder, Lightning, or in Raine? + 2. When the Hurley-burley's done, +When the Battaile's lost, and wonne + + 3. That will be ere the set of Sunne + + 1. Where the place? + 2. Vpon the Heath + + 3. There to meet with Macbeth + + 1. I come, Gray-Malkin + + All. Padock calls anon: faire is foule, and foule is faire, +Houer through the fogge and filthie ayre. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Alarum within. Enter King Malcome, Donalbaine, Lenox, with +attendants, +meeting a bleeding Captaine. + + King. What bloody man is that? he can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the Reuolt +The newest state + + Mal. This is the Serieant, +Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought +'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend; +Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle, +As thou didst leaue it + + Cap. Doubtfull it stood, +As two spent Swimmers, that doe cling together, +And choake their Art: The mercilesse Macdonwald +(Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that +The multiplying Villanies of Nature +Doe swarme vpon him) from the Westerne Isles +Of Kernes and Gallowgrosses is supply'd, +And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling, +Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake: +For braue Macbeth (well hee deserues that Name) +Disdayning Fortune, with his brandisht Steele, +Which smoak'd with bloody execution +(Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his passage, +Till hee fac'd the Slaue: +Which neu'r shooke hands, nor bad farwell to him, +Till he vnseam'd him from the Naue toth' Chops, +And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements + + King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman + + Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection, +Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders: +So from that Spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, +Discomfort swells: Marke King of Scotland, marke, +No sooner Iustice had, with Valour arm'd, +Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heeles, +But the Norweyan Lord, surueying vantage, +With furbusht Armes, and new supplyes of men, +Began a fresh assault + + King. Dismay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and +Banquoh? + Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles; +Or the Hare, the Lyon: +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks, +So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds, +Or memorize another Golgotha, +I cannot tell: but I am faint, +My Gashes cry for helpe + + King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds, +They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons. +Enter Rosse and Angus. + +Who comes here? + Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse + + Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes? +So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange + + Rosse. God saue the King + + King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane? + Rosse. From Fiffe, great King, +Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie, +And fanne our people cold. +Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyall Traytor, +The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict, +Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe, +Confronted him with selfe-comparisons, +Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme, +Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude, +The Victorie fell on vs + + King. Great happinesse + + Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King, +Craues composition: +Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men, +Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes ynch, +Ten thousand Dollars, to our generall vse + + King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue +Our Bosome interest: Goe pronounce his present death, +And with his former Title greet Macbeth + + Rosse. Ile see it done + + King. What he hath lost, Noble Macbeth hath wonne. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches. + + 1. Where hast thou beene, Sister? + 2. Killing Swine + + 3. Sister, where thou? + 1. A Saylors Wife had Chestnuts in her Lappe, +And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht: +Giue me, quoth I. +Aroynt thee, Witch, the rumpe-fed Ronyon cryes. +Her Husband's to Aleppo gone, Master o'th' Tiger: +But in a Syue Ile thither sayle, +And like a Rat without a tayle, +Ile doe, Ile doe, and Ile doe + + 2. Ile giue thee a Winde + + 1. Th'art kinde + + 3. And I another + + 1. I my selfe haue all the other, +And the very Ports they blow, +All the Quarters that they know, +I'th' Ship-mans Card. +Ile dreyne him drie as Hay: +Sleepe shall neyther Night nor Day +Hang vpon his Pent-house Lid: +He shall liue a man forbid: +Wearie Seu'nights, nine times nine, +Shall he dwindle, peake, and pine: +Though his Barke cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be Tempest-tost. +Looke what I haue + + 2. Shew me, shew me + + 1. Here I haue a Pilots Thumbe, +Wrackt, as homeward he did come. + +Drum within. + + 3. A Drumme, a Drumme: +Macbeth doth come + + All. The weyward Sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the Sea and Land, +Thus doe goe, about, about, +Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, +And thrice againe, to make vp nine. +Peace, the Charme's wound vp. +Enter Macbeth and Banquo. + + Macb. So foule and faire a day I haue not seene + + Banquo. How farre is't call'd to Soris? What are these, +So wither'd, and so wilde in their attyre, +That looke not like th' Inhabitants o'th' Earth, +And yet are on't? Liue you, or are you aught +That man may question? you seeme to vnderstand me, +By each at once her choppie finger laying +Vpon her skinnie Lips: you should be Women, +And yet your Beards forbid me to interprete +That you are so + + Mac. Speake if you can: what are you? + 1. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Glamis + + 2. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Cawdor + + 3. All haile Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter + + Banq. Good Sir, why doe you start, and seeme to feare +Things that doe sound so faire? i'th' name of truth +Are ye fantasticall, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye shew? My Noble Partner +You greet with present Grace, and great prediction +Of Noble hauing, and of Royall hope, +That he seemes wrapt withall: to me you speake not. +If you can looke into the Seedes of Time, +And say, which Graine will grow, and which will not, +Speake then to me, who neyther begge, nor feare +Your fauors, nor your hate + + 1. Hayle + + 2. Hayle + + 3. Hayle + + 1. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater + + 2. Not so happy, yet much happyer + + 3. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none: +So all haile Macbeth, and Banquo + + 1. Banquo, and Macbeth, all haile + + Macb. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more: +By Sinells death, I know I am Thane of Glamis, +But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor liues +A prosperous Gentleman: And to be King, +Stands not within the prospect of beleefe, +No more then to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange Intelligence, or why +Vpon this blasted Heath you stop our way +With such Prophetique greeting? +Speake, I charge you. + +Witches vanish. + + Banq. The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water ha's, +And these are of them: whither are they vanish'd? + Macb. Into the Ayre: and what seem'd corporall, +Melted, as breath into the Winde. +Would they had stay'd + + Banq. Were such things here, as we doe speake about? +Or haue we eaten on the insane Root, +That takes the Reason Prisoner? + Macb. Your Children shall be Kings + + Banq. You shall be King + + Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + Banq. Toth' selfe-same tune and words: who's here? +Enter Rosse and Angus. + + Rosse. The King hath happily receiu'd, Macbeth, +The newes of thy successe: and when he reades +Thy personall Venture in the Rebels sight, +His Wonders and his Prayses doe contend, +Which should be thine, or his: silenc'd with that, +In viewing o're the rest o'th' selfe-same day, +He findes thee in the stout Norweyan Rankes, +Nothing afeard of what thy selfe didst make +Strange Images of death, as thick as Tale +Can post with post, and euery one did beare +Thy prayses in his Kingdomes great defence, +And powr'd them downe before him + + Ang. Wee are sent, +To giue thee from our Royall Master thanks, +Onely to harrold thee into his sight, +Not pay thee + + Rosse. And for an earnest of a greater Honor, +He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, haile most worthy Thane, +For it is thine + + Banq. What, can the Deuill speake true? + Macb. The Thane of Cawdor liues: +Why doe you dresse me in borrowed Robes? + Ang. Who was the Thane, liues yet, +But vnder heauie Iudgement beares that Life, +Which he deserues to loose. +Whether he was combin'd with those of Norway, +Or did lyne the Rebell with hidden helpe, +And vantage; or that with both he labour'd +In his Countreyes wracke, I know not: +But Treasons Capitall, confess'd, and prou'd, +Haue ouerthrowne him + + Macb. Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor: +The greatest is behinde. Thankes for your paines. +Doe you not hope your Children shall be Kings, +When those that gaue the Thane of Cawdor to me, +Promis'd no lesse to them + + Banq. That trusted home, +Might yet enkindle you vnto the Crowne, +Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to winne vs to our harme, +The Instruments of Darknesse tell vs Truths, +Winne vs with honest Trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you + + Macb. Two Truths are told, +As happy Prologues to the swelling Act +Of the Imperiall Theame. I thanke you Gentlemen: +This supernaturall solliciting +Cannot be ill; cannot be good. +If ill? why hath it giuen me earnest of successe, +Commencing in a Truth? I am Thane of Cawdor. +If good? why doe I yeeld to that suggestion, +Whose horrid Image doth vnfixe my Heire, +And make my seated Heart knock at my Ribbes, +Against the vse of Nature? Present Feares +Are lesse then horrible Imaginings: +My Thought, whose Murther yet is but fantasticall, +Shakes so my single state of Man, +That Function is smother'd in surmise, +And nothing is, but what is not + + Banq. Looke how our Partner's rapt + + Macb. If Chance will haue me King, +Why Chance may Crowne me, +Without my stirre + + Banq. New Honors come vpon him +Like our strange Garments, cleaue not to their mould, +But with the aid of vse + + Macb. Come what come may, +Time, and the Houre, runs through the roughest Day + + Banq. Worthy Macbeth, wee stay vpon your leysure + + Macb. Giue me your fauour: +My dull Braine was wrought with things forgotten. +Kinde Gentlemen, your paines are registred, +Where euery day I turne the Leafe, +To reade them. +Let vs toward the King: thinke vpon +What hath chanc'd: and at more time, +The Interim hauing weigh'd it, let vs speake +Our free Hearts each to other + + Banq. Very gladly + + Macb. Till then enough: +Come friends. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Flourish. Enter King, Lenox, Malcolme, Donalbaine, and +Attendants. + + King. Is execution done on Cawdor? +Or not those in Commission yet return'd? + Mal. My Liege, they are not yet come back. +But I haue spoke with one that saw him die: +Who did report, that very frankly hee +Confess'd his Treasons, implor'd your Highnesse Pardon, +And set forth a deepe Repentance: +Nothing in his Life became him, +Like the leauing it. Hee dy'de, +As one that had beene studied in his death, +To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, +As 'twere a carelesse Trifle + + King. There's no Art, +To finde the Mindes construction in the Face. +He was a Gentleman, on whom I built +An absolute Trust. +Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus. + +O worthyest Cousin, +The sinne of my Ingratitude euen now +Was heauie on me. Thou art so farre before, +That swiftest Wing of Recompence is slow, +To ouertake thee. Would thou hadst lesse deseru'd, +That the proportion both of thanks, and payment, +Might haue beene mine: onely I haue left to say, +More is thy due, then more then all can pay + + Macb. The seruice, and the loyaltie I owe, +In doing it, payes it selfe. +Your Highnesse part, is to receiue our Duties: +And our Duties are to your Throne, and State, +Children, and Seruants; which doe but what they should, +By doing euery thing safe toward your Loue +And Honor + + King. Welcome hither: +I haue begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no lesse deseru'd, nor must be knowne +No lesse to haue done so: Let me enfold thee, +And hold thee to my Heart + + Banq. There if I grow, +The Haruest is your owne + + King. My plenteous Ioyes, +Wanton in fulnesse, seeke to hide themselues +In drops of sorrow. Sonnes, Kinsmen, Thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know, +We will establish our Estate vpon +Our eldest, Malcolme, whom we name hereafter, +The Prince of Cumberland: which Honor must +Not vnaccompanied, inuest him onely, +But signes of Noblenesse, like Starres, shall shine +On all deseruers. From hence to Envernes, +And binde vs further to you + + Macb. The Rest is Labor, which is not vs'd for you: +Ile be my selfe the Herbenger, and make ioyfull +The hearing of my Wife, with your approach: +So humbly take my leaue + + King. My worthy Cawdor + + Macb. The Prince of Cumberland: that is a step, +On which I must fall downe, or else o're-leape, +For in my way it lyes. Starres hide your fires, +Let not Light see my black and deepe desires: +The Eye winke at the Hand: yet let that bee, +Which the Eye feares, when it is done to see. +Enter. + + King. 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 vs welcome: +It is a peerelesse Kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt. + + +Scena Quinta. + +Enter Macbeths Wife alone with a Letter. + + Lady. They met me in the day of successe: and I haue +learn'd by the perfect'st report, they haue more in them, then +mortall knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them +further, they made themselues Ayre, into which they vanish'd. +Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came Missiues from +the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title +before, these weyward Sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to +the comming on of time, with haile King that shalt be. This +haue I thought good to deliuer thee (my dearest Partner of +Greatnesse) that thou might'st not loose the dues of reioycing +by being ignorant of what Greatnesse is promis'd thee. Lay +it to thy heart and farewell. +Glamys thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be +What thou art promis'd: yet doe I feare thy Nature, +It is too full o'th' Milke of humane kindnesse, +To catch the neerest way. Thou would'st be great, +Art not without Ambition, but without +The illnesse should attend it. What thou would'st highly, +That would'st thou holily: would'st not play false, +And yet would'st wrongly winne. +Thould'st haue, great Glamys, that which cryes, +Thus thou must doe, if thou haue it; +And that which rather thou do'st feare to doe, +Then wishest should be vndone. High thee hither, +That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare, +And chastise with the valour of my Tongue +All that impeides thee from the Golden Round, +Which Fate and Metaphysicall ayde doth seeme +To haue thee crown'd withall. +Enter Messenger. + +What is your tidings? + Mess. The King comes here to Night + + Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it. +Is not thy Master with him? who, wer't so, +Would haue inform'd for preparation + + Mess. So please you, it is true: our Thane is comming: +One of my fellowes had the speed of him; +Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Then would make vp his Message + + Lady. Giue him tending, +He brings great newes, + +Exit Messenger. + +The Rauen himselfe is hoarse, +That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan +Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits, +That tend on mortall thoughts, vnsex me here, +And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full +Of direst Crueltie: make thick my blood, +Stop vp th' accesse, and passage to Remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of Nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keepe peace betweene +Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Brests, +And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Ministers, +Where-euer, in your sightlesse substances, +You wait on Natures Mischiefe. Come thick Night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoake of Hell, + +That my keene Knife see not the Wound it makes, +Nor Heauen peepe through the Blanket of the darke, +To cry, hold, hold. +Enter Macbeth. + +Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor, +Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter, +Thy Letters haue transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feele now +The future in the instant + + Macb. My dearest Loue, +Duncan comes here to Night + + Lady. And when goes hence? + Macb. To morrow, as he purposes + + Lady. O neuer, +Shall Sunne that Morrow see. +Your Face, my Thane, is as a Booke, where men +May reade strange matters, to beguile the time. +Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye, +Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th' innocent flower, +But be the Serpent vnder't. He that's comming, +Must be prouided for: and you shall put +This Nights great Businesse into my dispatch, +Which shall to all our Nights, and Dayes to come, +Giue solely soueraigne sway, and Masterdome + + Macb. We will speake further, + Lady. Onely looke vp cleare: +To alter fauor, euer is to feare: +Leaue all the rest to me. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Sexta. + +Hoboyes, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolme, Donalbaine, +Banquo, Lenox, +Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants. + + King. This Castle hath a pleasant seat, +The ayre nimbly and sweetly recommends it selfe +Vnto our gentle sences + + Banq. This Guest of Summer, +The Temple-haunting Barlet does approue, +By his loued Mansonry, that the Heauens breath +Smells wooingly here: no Iutty frieze, +Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird +Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle, +Where they must breed, and haunt: I haue obseru'd +The ayre is delicate. +Enter Lady. + + King. See, see our honor'd Hostesse: +The Loue that followes vs, sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thanke as Loue. Herein I teach you, +How you shall bid God-eyld vs for your paines, +And thanke vs for your trouble + + Lady. All our seruice, +In euery point twice done, and then done double, +Were poore, and single Businesse, to contend +Against those Honors deepe, and broad, +Wherewith your Maiestie loades our House: +For those of old, and the late Dignities, +Heap'd vp to them, we rest your Ermites + + King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor? +We courst him at the heeles, and had a purpose +To be his Purueyor: But he rides well, +And his great Loue (sharpe as his Spurre) hath holp him +To his home before vs: Faire and Noble Hostesse +We are your guest to night + + La. Your Seruants euer, +Haue theirs, themselues, and what is theirs in compt, +To make their Audit at your Highnesse pleasure, +Still to returne your owne + + King. Giue me your hand: +Conduct me to mine Host we loue him highly, +And shall continue, our Graces towards him. +By your leaue Hostesse. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Septima. + +Hoboyes. Torches. Enter a Sewer, and diuers Seruants with Dishes +and +Seruice ouer the Stage. Then enter Macbeth + + Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twer well, +It were done quickly: If th' Assassination +Could trammell vp the Consequence, and catch +With his surcease, Successe: that but this blow +Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere, +But heere, vpon this Banke and Schoole of time, +Wee'ld iumpe the life to come. But in these Cases, +We still haue iudgement heere, that we but teach +Bloody Instructions, which being taught, returne +To plague th' Inuenter, this euen-handed Iustice +Commends th' Ingredience of our poyson'd Challice +To our owne lips. Hee's heere in double trust; +First, as I am his Kinsman, and his Subiect, +Strong both against the Deed: Then, as his Host, +Who should against his Murtherer shut the doore, +Not beare the knife my selfe. Besides, this Duncane +Hath borne his Faculties so meeke; hath bin +So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues +Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd against +The deepe damnation of his taking off: +And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe, +Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd +Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre, +Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye, +That teares shall drowne the winde. I haue no Spurre +To pricke the sides of my intent, but onely +Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it selfe, +And falles on th' other. +Enter Lady. + +How now? What Newes? + La. He has almost supt: why haue you left the chamber? + Mac. Hath he ask'd for me? + La. Know you not, he ha's? + Mac. We will proceed no further in this Businesse: +He hath Honour'd me of late, and I haue bought +Golden Opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worne now in their newest glosse, +Not cast aside so soone + + La. Was the hope drunke, +Wherein you drest your selfe? Hath it slept since? +And wakes it now to looke so greene, and pale, +At what it did so freely? From this time, +Such I account thy loue. Art thou affear'd +To be the same in thine owne Act, and Valour, +As thou art in desire? Would'st thou haue that +Which thou esteem'st the Ornament of Life, +And liue a Coward in thine owne Esteeme? +Letting I dare not, wait vpon I would, +Like the poore Cat i'th' Addage + + Macb. Prythee peace: +I dare do all that may become a man, +Who dares do more, is none + + La. What Beast was't then +That made you breake this enterprize to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man: +And to be more then 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 haue made themselues, and that their fitnesse now +Do's vnmake you. I haue giuen Sucke, and know +How tender 'tis to loue the Babe that milkes me, +I would, while it was smyling in my Face, +Haue pluckt my Nipple from his Bonelesse Gummes, +And dasht the Braines out, had I so sworne +As you haue done to this + + Macb. If we should faile? + Lady. We faile? +But screw your courage to the sticking place, +And wee'le not fayle: when Duncan is asleepe, +(Whereto the rather shall his dayes hard Iourney +Soundly inuite him) his two Chamberlaines +Will I with Wine, and Wassell, so conuince, +That Memorie, the Warder of the Braine, +Shall be a Fume, and the Receit of Reason +A Lymbeck onely: when in Swinish sleepe, +Their drenched Natures lyes as in a Death, +What cannot you and I performe vpon +Th' vnguarded Duncan? What not put vpon +His spungie Officers? who shall beare the guilt +Of our great quell + + Macb. Bring forth Men-Children onely: +For thy vndaunted Mettle should compose +Nothing but Males. Will it not be receiu'd, +When we haue mark'd with blood those sleepie two +Of his owne Chamber, and vs'd their very Daggers, +That they haue don't? + Lady. Who dares receiue it other, +As we shall make our Griefes and Clamor rore, +Vpon his Death? + Macb. I am settled, and bend vp +Each corporall Agent to this terrible Feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show, +False Face must hide what the false Heart doth know. + +Exeunt. + + +Actus Secundus. Scena Prima. + +Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch before him. + + Banq. How goes the Night, Boy? + Fleance. The Moone is downe: I haue not heard the +Clock + + Banq. And she goes downe at Twelue + + Fleance. I take't, 'tis later, Sir + + Banq. Hold, take my Sword: +There's Husbandry in Heauen, +Their Candles are all out: take thee that too. +A heauie Summons lyes like Lead vpon me, +And yet I would not sleepe: +Mercifull Powers, restraine in me the cursed thoughts +That Nature giues way to in repose. +Enter Macbeth, and a Seruant with a Torch. + +Giue me my Sword: who's there? + Macb. A Friend + + Banq. What Sir, not yet at rest? the King's a bed. +He hath beene in vnusuall Pleasure, +And sent forth great Largesse to your Offices. +This Diamond he greetes your Wife withall, +By the name of most kind Hostesse, +And shut vp in measurelesse content + + Mac. Being vnprepar'd, +Our will became the seruant to defect, +Which else should free haue wrought + + Banq. All's well. +I dreamt last Night of the three weyward Sisters: +To you they haue shew'd some truth + + Macb. I thinke not of them: +Yet when we can entreat an houre to serue, +We would spend it in some words vpon that Businesse, +If you would graunt the time + + Banq. At your kind'st leysure + + Macb. If you shall cleaue to my consent, +When 'tis, it shall make Honor for you + + Banq. So I lose none, +In seeking to augment it, but still keepe +My Bosome franchis'd, and Allegeance cleare, +I shall be counsail'd + + Macb. Good repose the while + + Banq. Thankes Sir: the like to you. + +Exit Banquo. + + Macb. Goe bid thy Mistresse, when my drinke is ready, +She strike vpon the Bell. Get thee to bed. +Enter. + +Is this a Dagger, which I see before me, +The Handle toward my Hand? Come, let me clutch thee: +I haue thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not fatall Vision, sensible +To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but +A Dagger of the Minde, a false Creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed Braine? +I see thee yet, in forme 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 vse. +Mine Eyes are made the fooles o'th' other Sences, +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 Businesse, which informes +Thus to mine Eyes. Now o're the one halfe World +Nature seemes dead, and wicked Dreames abuse +The Curtain'd sleepe: Witchcraft celebrates +Pale Heccats Offrings: and wither'd Murther, +Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe, +Whose howle's his Watch, thus with his stealthy pace, +With Tarquins rauishing sides, towards his designe +Moues like a Ghost. Thou sowre and firme-set Earth +Heare not my steps, which they may walke, for feare +Thy very stones prate of my where-about, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now sutes with it. Whiles I threat, he liues: +Words to the heat of deedes too cold breath giues. + +A Bell rings. + +I goe, and it is done: the Bell inuites me. +Heare it not, Duncan, for it is a Knell, +That summons thee to Heauen, or to Hell. +Enter. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Lady. + + La. That which hath made the[m] drunk, hath made me bold: +What hath quench'd them, hath giuen me fire. +Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that shriek'd, +The fatall Bell-man, which giues the stern'st good-night. +He is about it, the Doores are open: +And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge +With Snores. I haue drugg'd their Possets, +That Death and Nature doe contend about them, +Whether they liue, or dye. +Enter Macbeth. + + Macb. Who's there? what hoa? + Lady. Alack, I am afraid they haue awak'd, +And 'tis not done: th' attempt, and not the deed, +Confounds vs: hearke: I lay'd their Daggers ready, +He could not misse 'em. Had he not resembled +My Father as he slept, I had don't. +My Husband? + Macb. I haue done the deed: +Didst thou not heare a noyse? + Lady. I heard the Owle schreame, and the Crickets cry. +Did not you speake? + Macb. When? + Lady. Now + + Macb. As I descended? + Lady. I + + Macb. Hearke, who lyes i'th' second Chamber? + Lady. Donalbaine + + Mac. This is a sorry sight + + Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight + + Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleepe, +And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other: +I stood, and heard them: But they did say their Prayers, +And addrest them againe to sleepe + + Lady. There are two lodg'd together + + Macb. One cry'd God blesse vs, and Amen the other, +As they had seene me with these Hangmans hands: +Listning their feare, I could not say Amen, +When they did say God blesse vs + + Lady. Consider it not so deepely + + Mac. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen? +I had most need of Blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat + + Lady. These deeds must not be thought +After these wayes: so, it will make vs mad + + Macb. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more: +Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe, +Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care, +The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath, +Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course, +Chiefe nourisher in Life's Feast + + Lady. What doe you meane? + Macb. Still it cry'd, Sleepe no more to all the House: +Glamis hath murther'd Sleepe, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleepe no more: Macbeth shall sleepe no more + + Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why worthy Thane, +You doe vnbend your Noble strength, to thinke +So braine-sickly of things: Goe get some Water, +And wash this filthie Witnesse from your Hand. +Why did you bring these Daggers from the place? +They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare +The sleepie Groomes with blood + + Macb. Ile goe no more: +I am afraid, to thinke what I haue done: +Looke on't againe, I dare not + + Lady. Infirme of purpose: +Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead, +Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Childhood, +That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed, +Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall, +For it must seeme their Guilt. +Enter. + +Knocke within. + + Macb. Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me? +What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes. +Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood +Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather +The multitudinous Seas incarnardine, +Making the Greene one, Red. +Enter Lady. + + Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame +To weare a Heart so white. + +Knocke. + +I heare a knocking at the South entry: +Retyre we to our Chamber: +A little Water cleares vs of this deed. +How easie is it then? your Constancie +Hath left you vnattended. + +Knocke. + +Hearke, more knocking. +Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs, +And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost +So poorely in your thoughts + + Macb. To know my deed, + +Knocke. + +'Twere best not know my selfe. +Wake Duncan with thy knocking: +I would thou could'st. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter a Porter. Knocking within. + + Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were +Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the +Key. + +Knock. + +Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there +i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd +himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue +Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't. + +Knock. + +Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name? +Faith here's an Equiuocator, that could sweare in both +the Scales against eyther Scale, who committed Treason +enough for Gods sake, yet could not equiuocate to Heauen: +oh come in, Equiuocator. + +Knock. + +Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there? 'Faith here's an English +Taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French Hose: +Come in Taylor, here you may rost your Goose. +Knock. + +Knock, Knock. Neuer at quiet: What are you? but this +place is too cold for Hell. Ile Deuill-Porter it no further: +I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that +goe the Primrose way to th' euerlasting Bonfire. + +Knock. + +Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter. +Enter Macduff, and Lenox. + + Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to Bed, +That you doe lye so late? + Port. Faith Sir, we were carowsing till the second Cock: +And Drinke, Sir, is a great prouoker of three things + + Macd. What three things does Drinke especially +prouoke? + Port. Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleepe, and Vrine. +Lecherie, Sir, it prouokes, and vnprouokes: it prouokes +the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore +much Drinke may be said to be an Equiuocator with Lecherie: +it makes him, and it marres him; it sets him on, +and it takes him off; it perswades him, and dis-heartens +him; makes him stand too, and not stand too: in conclusion, +equiuocates him in a sleepe, and giuing him the Lye, +leaues him + + Macd. I beleeue, Drinke gaue thee the Lye last Night + + Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me: but I +requited him for his Lye, and (I thinke) being too strong +for him, though he tooke vp my Legges sometime, yet I +made a Shift to cast him. +Enter Macbeth. + + Macd. Is thy Master stirring? +Our knocking ha's awak'd him: here he comes + + Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir + + Macb. Good morrow both + + Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane? + Macb. Not yet + + Macd. He did command me to call timely on him, +I haue almost slipt the houre + + Macb. Ile bring you to him + + Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you: +But yet 'tis one + + Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine: +This is the Doore + + Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted +seruice. + +Exit Macduffe. + + Lenox. Goes the King hence to day? + Macb. He does: he did appoint so + + Lenox. The Night ha's been vnruly: +Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe, +And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre; +Strange Schreemes of Death, +And Prophecying, with Accents terrible, +Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents, +New hatch'd toth' wofull time. +The obscure Bird clamor'd the liue-long Night. +Some say, the Earth was Feuorous, +And did shake + + Macb. 'Twas a rough Night + + Lenox. My young remembrance cannot paralell +A fellow to it. +Enter Macduff. + + Macd. O horror, horror, horror, +Tongue nor Heart cannot conceiue, nor name thee + + Macb. and Lenox. What's the matter? + Macd. Confusion now hath made his Master-peece: +Most sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope +The Lords anoynted Temple, and stole thence +The Life o'th' Building + + Macb. What is't you say, the Life? + Lenox. Meane you his Maiestie? + Macd. Approch the Chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon. Doe not bid me speake: +See, and then speake your selues: awake, awake, + +Exeunt. Macbeth and Lenox. + +Ring the Alarum Bell: Murther, and Treason, +Banquo, and Donalbaine: Malcolme awake, +Shake off this Downey sleepe, Deaths counterfeit, +And looke on Death it selfe: vp, vp, and see +The great Doomes Image: Malcolme, Banquo, +As from your Graues rise vp, and walke like Sprights, +To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell. + +Bell rings. Enter Lady. + + Lady. What's the Businesse? +That such a hideous Trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the House? speake, speake + + Macd. O gentle Lady, +'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake: +The repetition in a Womans eare, +Would murther as it fell. +Enter Banquo. + +O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Master's murther'd + + Lady. Woe, alas: +What, in our House? + Ban. Too cruell, any where. +Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy selfe, +And say, it is not so. +Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Rosse. + + Macb. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance, +I had liu'd a blessed time: for from this instant, +There's nothing serious in Mortalitie: +All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead, +The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees +Is left this Vault, to brag of. +Enter Malcolme and Donalbaine. + + Donal. What is amisse? + Macb. You are, and doe not know't: +The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood +Is stopt, the very Source of it is stopt + + Macd. Your Royall Father's murther'd + + Mal. Oh, by whom? + Lenox. Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't: +Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood, +So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found +Vpon their Pillowes: they star'd, and were distracted, +No mans Life was to be trusted with them + + Macb. O, yet I doe repent me of my furie, +That I did kill them + + Macd. Wherefore did you so? + Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious, +Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man: +Th' expedition of my violent Loue +Out-run the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan, +His Siluer skinne, lac'd with His Golden Blood, +And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature, +For Ruines wastfull entrance: there the Murtherers, +Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers +Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine, +That had a heart to loue; and in that heart, +Courage, to make's loue knowne? + Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa + + Macd. Looke to the Lady + + Mal. Why doe we hold our tongues, +That most may clayme this argument for ours? + Donal. What should be spoken here, +Where our Fate hid in an augure hole, +May rush, and seize vs? Let's away, +Our Teares are not yet brew'd + + Mal. Nor our strong Sorrow +Vpon the foot of Motion + + Banq. Looke to the Lady: +And when we haue our naked Frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure; let vs meet, +And question this most bloody piece of worke, +To know it further. Feares and scruples shake vs: +In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence, +Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight +Of Treasonous Mallice + + Macd. And so doe I + + All. So all + + Macb. Let's briefely put on manly readinesse, +And meet i'th' Hall together + + All. Well contented. + +Exeunt. + + Malc. What will you doe? +Let's not consort with them: +To shew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office +Which the false man do's easie. +Ile to England + + Don. To Ireland, I: +Our seperated fortune shall keepe vs both the safer: +Where we are, there's Daggers in mens smiles; +The neere in blood, the neerer bloody + + Malc. This murtherous Shaft that's shot, +Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way, +Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horse, +And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that Theft, +Which steales it selfe, when there's no mercie left. + +Exeunt. + + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Rosse, with an Old man. + + Old man. Threescore and ten I can remember well, +Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene +Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night +Hath trifled former knowings + + Rosse. Ha, good Father, +Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act, +Threatens his bloody Stage: byth' Clock 'tis Day, +And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe: +Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame, +That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe, +When liuing Light should kisse it? + Old man. 'Tis vnnaturall, +Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last, +A Faulcon towring in her pride of place, +Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd + + Rosse. And Duncans Horses, +(A thing most strange, and certaine) +Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race, +Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their stalls, flong out, +Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would +Make Warre with Mankinde + + Old man. 'Tis said, they eate each other + + Rosse. They did so: +To th' amazement of mine eyes that look'd vpon't. +Enter Macduffe. + +Heere comes the good Macduffe. +How goes the world Sir, now? + Macd. Why see you not? + Ross. Is't known who did this more then bloody deed? + Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slaine + + Ross. Alas the day, +What good could they pretend? + Macd. They were subborned, +Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes +Are stolne away and fled, which puts vpon them +Suspition of the deed + + Rosse. 'Gainst Nature still, +Thriftlesse Ambition, that will rauen vp +Thine owne liues meanes: Then 'tis most like, +The Soueraignty will fall vpon Macbeth + + Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone +To be inuested + + Rosse. Where is Duncans body? + Macd. Carried to Colmekill, +The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors, +And Guardian of their Bones + + Rosse. Will you to Scone? + Macd. No Cosin, Ile to Fife + + Rosse. Well, I will thither + + Macd. Well may you see things wel done there: Adieu +Least our old Robes sit easier then our new + + Rosse. Farewell, Father + + Old M. Gods benyson go with you, and with those +That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes. + +Exeunt. omnes + +Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. + +Enter Banquo. + + Banq. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weyard Women promis'd, and I feare +Thou playd'st most fowly for't: yet it was saide +It should not stand in thy Posterity, +But that my selfe should be the Roote, and Father +Of many Kings. If there come truth from them, +As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches shine, +Why by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my Oracles as well, +And set me vp in hope. But hush, no more. + +Senit sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox, Rosse, Lords, +and +Attendants. + + Macb. Heere's our chiefe Guest + + La. If he had beene forgotten, +It had bene as a gap in our great Feast, +And all-thing vnbecomming + + Macb. To night we hold a solemne Supper sir, +And Ile request your presence + + Banq. Let your Highnesse +Command vpon me, to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tye +For euer knit + + Macb. Ride you this afternoone? + Ban. I, my good Lord + + Macb. We should haue else desir'd your good aduice +(Which still hath been both graue, and prosperous) +In this dayes Councell: but wee'le take to morrow. +Is't farre you ride? + Ban. As farre, my Lord, as will fill vp the time +'Twixt this, and Supper. Goe not my Horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the Night, +For a darke houre, or twaine + + Macb. Faile not our Feast + + Ban. My Lord, I will not + + Macb. We heare our bloody Cozens are bestow'd +In England, and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruell Parricide, filling their hearers +With strange inuention. But of that to morrow, +When therewithall, we shall haue cause of State, +Crauing vs ioyntly. Hye you to Horse: +Adieu, till you returne at Night. +Goes Fleance with you? + Ban. I, my good Lord: our time does call vpon's + + Macb. I wish your Horses swift, and sure of foot: +And so I doe commend you to their backs. +Farwell. + +Exit Banquo. + +Let euery man be master of his time, +Till seuen at Night, to make societie +The sweeter welcome: +We will keepe our selfe till Supper time alone: +While then, God be with you. + +Exeunt. Lords. + +Sirrha, a word with you: Attend those men +Our pleasure? + Seruant. They are, my Lord, without the Pallace +Gate + + Macb. Bring them before vs. + +Exit Seruant. + +To be thus, is nothing, but to be safely thus +Our feares in Banquo sticke deepe, +And in his Royaltie of Nature reignes that +Which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares, +And to that dauntlesse temper of his Minde, +He hath a Wisdome, that doth guide his Valour, +To act in safetie. There is none but he, +Whose being I doe feare: and vnder him, +My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said +Mark Anthonies was by Caesar. He chid the Sisters, +When first they put the Name of King vpon me, +And bad them speake to him. Then Prophet-like, +They hayl'd him Father to a Line of Kings. +Vpon my Head they plac'd a fruitlesse Crowne, +And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe, +Thence to be wrencht with an vnlineall Hand, +No Sonne of mine succeeding: if't be so, +For Banquo's Issue haue I fil'd my Minde, +For them, the gracious Duncan haue I murther'd, +Put Rancours in the Vessell of my Peace +Onely for them, and mine eternall Iewell +Giuen to the common Enemie of Man, +To make them Kings, the Seedes of Banquo Kings. +Rather then so, come Fate into the Lyst, +And champion me to th' vtterance. +Who's there? +Enter Seruant, and two Murtherers. + +Now goe to the Doore, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Seruant. + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + Murth. It was, so please your Highnesse + + Macb. Well then, +Now haue you consider'd of my speeches: +Know, that it was he, in the times past, +Which held you so vnder fortune, +Which you thought had been our innocent selfe. +This I made good to you, in our last conference, +Past in probation with you: +How you were borne in hand, how crost: +The Instruments: who wrought with them: +And all things else, that might +To halfe a Soule, and to a Notion craz'd, +Say, Thus did Banquo + + 1.Murth. You made it knowne to vs + + Macb. I did so: +And went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. +Doe you finde your patience so predominant, +In your nature, that you can let this goe? +Are you so Gospell'd, to pray for this good man, +And for his Issue, whose heauie hand +Hath bow'd you to the Graue, and begger'd +Yours for euer? + 1.Murth. We are men, my Liege + + Macb. I, in the Catalogue ye goe for men, +As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mungrels, Spaniels, Curres, +Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolues are clipt +All by the Name of Dogges: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The House-keeper, the Hunter, euery one +According to the gift, which bounteous Nature +Hath in him clos'd: whereby he does receiue +Particular addition, from the Bill, +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you haue a station in the file, +Not i'th' worst ranke of Manhood, say't, +And I will put that Businesse in your Bosomes, +Whose execution takes your Enemie off, +Grapples you to the heart; and loue of vs, +Who weare our Health but sickly in his Life, +Which in his Death were perfect + + 2.Murth. I am one, my Liege, +Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the World +Hath so incens'd, that I am recklesse what I doe, +To spight the World + + 1.Murth. And I another, +So wearie with Disasters, tugg'd with Fortune, +That I would set my Life on any Chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't + + Macb. Both of you know Banquo was your Enemie + + Murth. True, my Lord + + Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance, +That euery minute of his being, thrusts +Against my neer'st of Life: and though I could +With bare-fac'd power sweepe him from my sight, +And bid my will auouch it; yet I must not, +For certaine friends that are both his, and mine, +Whose loues I may not drop, but wayle his fall, +Who I my selfe struck downe: and thence it is, +That I to your assistance doe make loue, +Masking the Businesse from the common Eye, +For sundry weightie Reasons + + 2.Murth. We shall, my Lord, +Performe what you command vs + + 1.Murth. Though our Liues- + Macb. Your Spirits shine through you. +Within this houre, at most, +I will aduise you where to plant your selues, +Acquaint you with the perfect Spy o'th' time, +The moment on't, for't must be done to Night, +And something from the Pallace: alwayes thought, +That I require a clearenesse; and with him, +To leaue no Rubs nor Botches in the Worke: + Fleans , his Sonne, that keepes him companie, +Whose absence is no lesse materiall to me, +Then is his Fathers, must embrace the fate +Of that darke houre: resolue your selues apart, +Ile come to you anon + + Murth. We are resolu'd, my Lord + + Macb. Ile call vpon you straight: abide within, +It is concluded: Banquo, thy Soules flight, +If it finde Heauen, must finde it out to Night. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Macbeths Lady, and a Seruant. + + Lady. Is Banquo gone from Court? + Seruant. I, Madame, but returnes againe to Night + + Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leysure, +For a few words + + Seruant. Madame, I will. +Enter. + + Lady. Nought's had, all's spent. +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer, to be that which we destroy, +Then by destruction dwell in doubtfull ioy. +Enter Macbeth. + +How now, my Lord, why doe you keepe alone? +Of sorryest Fancies your Companions making, +Vsing those Thoughts, which should indeed haue dy'd +With them they thinke on: things without all remedie +Should be without regard: what's done, is done + + Macb. We haue scorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it: +Shee'le close, and be her selfe, whilest our poore Mallice +Remaines in danger of her former Tooth. +But let the frame of things dis-ioynt, +Both the Worlds suffer, +Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe +In the affliction of these terrible Dreames, +That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace, +Then on the torture of the Minde to lye +In restlesse extasie. +Duncane is in his Graue: +After Lifes fitfull Feuer, he sleepes well, +Treason ha's done his worst: nor Steele, nor Poyson, +Mallice domestique, forraine Leuie, nothing, +Can touch him further + + Lady. Come on: +Gentle my Lord, sleeke o're your rugged Lookes, +Be bright and Iouiall among your Guests to Night + + Macb. So shall I Loue, and so I pray be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo, +Present him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue: +Vnsafe the while, that wee must laue +Our Honors in these flattering streames, +And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts, +Disguising what they are + + Lady. You must leaue this + + Macb. O, full of Scorpions is my Minde, deare Wife: +Thou know'st, that Banquo and his Fleans liues + + Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne + + Macb. There's comfort yet, they are assaileable, +Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne +His Cloyster'd flight, ere to black Heccats summons +The shard-borne Beetle, with his drowsie hums, +Hath rung Nights yawning Peale, +There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note + + Lady. What's to be done? + Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest Chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night, +Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day, +And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand +Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond, +Which keepes me pale. Light thickens, +And the Crow makes Wing toth' Rookie Wood: +Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowse, +Whiles Nights black Agents to their Prey's doe rowse. +Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still, +Things bad begun, make strong themselues by ill: +So prythee goe with me. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter three Murtherers. + + 1. But who did bid thee ioyne with vs? + 3. Macbeth + + 2. He needes not our mistrust, since he deliuers +Our Offices, and what we haue to doe, +To the direction iust + + 1. Then stand with vs: +The West yet glimmers with some streakes of Day. +Now spurres the lated Traueller apace, +To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approches +The subiect of our Watch + + 3. Hearke, I heare Horses + + Banquo within. Giue vs a Light there, hoa + + 2. Then 'tis hee: +The rest, that are within the note of expectation, +Alreadie are i'th' Court + + 1. His Horses goe about + + 3. Almost a mile: but he does vsually, +So all men doe, from hence toth' Pallace Gate +Make it their Walke. +Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch. + + 2. A Light, a Light + + 3. 'Tis hee + + 1. Stand too't + + Ban. It will be Rayne to Night + + 1. Let it come downe + + Ban. O, Trecherie! +Flye good Fleans, flye, flye, flye, +Thou may'st reuenge. O Slaue! + 3. Who did strike out the Light? + 1. Was't not the way? + 3. There's but one downe: the Sonne is fled + + 2. We haue lost +Best halfe of our Affaire + + 1. Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt. + + +Scaena Quarta. + +Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and +Attendants. + + Macb. You know your owne degrees, sit downe: +At first and last, the hearty welcome + + Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty + + Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society, +And play the humble Host: +Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time +We will require her welcome + + La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends, +For my heart speakes, they are welcome. +Enter first Murtherer. + + Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks +Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st, +Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure +The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face + + Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then + + Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him + + Mac. Thou art the best o'th' Cut-throats, +Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans: +If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill + + Mur. Most Royall Sir +Fleans is scap'd + + Macb. Then comes my Fit againe: +I had else beene perfect; +Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke, +As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre: +But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in +To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe? + Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a Death to Nature + + Macb. Thankes for that: +There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled +Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed, +No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow +Wee'l heare our selues againe. + +Exit Murderer. + + Lady. My Royall Lord, +You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making: +'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home: +From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony, +Meeting were bare without it. +Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place. + + Macb. Sweet Remembrancer: +Now good digestion waite on Appetite, +And health on both + + Lenox. May't please your Highnesse sit + + Macb. Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd, +Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present: +Who, may I rather challenge for vnkindnesse, +Then pitty for Mischance + + Rosse. His absence (Sir) +Layes blame vpon his promise. Pleas't your Highnesse +To grace vs with your Royall Company? + Macb. The Table's full + + Lenox. Heere is a place reseru'd Sir + + Macb. Where? + Lenox. Heere my good Lord. +What is't that moues your Highnesse? + Macb. Which of you haue done this? + Lords. What, my good Lord? + Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: neuer shake +Thy goary lockes at me + + Rosse. Gentlemen rise, his Highnesse is not well + + Lady. Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus, +And hath beene from his youth. Pray you keepe Seat, +The fit is momentary, vpon a thought +He will againe be well. If much you note him +You shall offend him, and extend his Passion, +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + Macb. I, and a bold one, that dare looke on that +Which might appall the Diuell + + La. O proper stuffe: +This is the very painting of your feare: +This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you said +Led you to Duncan. O, these flawes and starts +(Impostors to true feare) would well become +A womans story, at a Winters fire +Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it selfe, +Why do you make such faces? When all's done +You looke but on a stoole + + Macb. Prythee see there: +Behold, looke, loe, how say you: +Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speake too. +If Charnell houses, and our Graues must send +Those that we bury, backe; our Monuments +Shall be the Mawes of Kytes + + La. What? quite vnmann'd in folly + + Macb. If I stand heere, I saw him + + La. Fie for shame + + Macb. Blood hath bene shed ere now, i'th' olden time +Ere humane Statute purg'd the gentle Weale: +I, and since too, Murthers haue bene perform'd +Too terrible for the eare. The times has bene, +That when the Braines were out, the man would dye, +And there an end: But now they rise againe +With twenty mortall murthers on their crownes, +And push vs from our stooles. This is more strange +Then such a murther is + + La. My worthy Lord +Your Noble Friends do lacke you + + Macb. I do forget: +Do not muse at me my most worthy Friends, +I haue a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, loue and health to all, +Then Ile sit downe: Giue me some Wine, fill full: +Enter Ghost. + +I drinke to th' generall ioy o'th' whole Table, +And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we misse: +Would he were heere: to all, and him we thirst, +And all to all + + Lords. Our duties, and the pledge + + Mac. Auant, & quit my sight, let the earth hide thee: +Thy bones are marrowlesse, thy blood is cold: +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with + + La. Thinke of this good Peeres +But as a thing of Custome: 'Tis no other, +Onely it spoyles the pleasure of the time + + Macb. What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian Beare, +The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hircan Tiger, +Take any shape but that, and my firme Nerues +Shall neuer tremble. Or be aliue againe, +And dare me to the Desart with thy Sword: +If trembling I inhabit then, protest mee +The Baby of a Girle. Hence horrible shadow, +Vnreall mock'ry hence. Why so, being gone +I am a man againe: pray you sit still + + La. You haue displac'd the mirth, +Broke the good meeting, with most admir'd disorder + + Macb. Can such things be, +And ouercome vs like a Summers Clowd, +Without our speciall wonder? You make me strange +Euen to the disposition that I owe, +When now I thinke you can behold such sights, +And keepe the naturall Rubie of your Cheekes, +When mine is blanch'd with feare + + Rosse. What sights, my Lord? + La. I pray you speake not: he growes worse & worse +Question enrages him: at once, goodnight. +Stand not vpon the order of your going, +But go at once + + Len. Good night, and better health +Attend his Maiesty + + La. A kinde goodnight to all. + +Exit Lords. + + Macb. It will haue blood they say: +Blood will haue Blood: +Stones haue beene knowne to moue, & Trees to speake: +Augures, and vnderstood Relations, haue +By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes, & Rookes brought forth +The secret'st man of Blood. What is the night? + La. Almost at oddes with morning, which is which + + Macb. How say'st thou that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding + + La. Did you send to him Sir? + Macb. I heare it by the way: But I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keepe a Seruant Feed. I will to morrow +(And betimes I will) to the weyard Sisters. +More shall they speake: for now I am bent to know +By the worst meanes, the worst, for mine owne good, +All causes shall giue way. I am in blood +Stept in so farre, that should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go ore: +Strange things I haue in head, that will to hand, +Which must be acted, ere they may be scand + + La. You lacke the season of all Natures, sleepe + + Macb. Come, wee'l to sleepe: My strange & self-abuse +Is the initiate feare, that wants hard vse: +We are yet but yong indeed. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quinta. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecat. + + 1. Why how now Hecat, you looke angerly? + Hec. Haue I not reason (Beldams) as you are? +Sawcy, and ouer-bold, how did you dare +To Trade, and Trafficke with Macbeth, +In Riddles, and Affaires of death; +And I the Mistris of your Charmes, +The close contriuer of all harmes, +Was neuer call'd to beare my part, +Or shew the glory of our Art? +And which is worse, all you haue done +Hath bene but for a wayward Sonne, +Spightfull, and wrathfull, who (as others do) +Loues for his owne ends, not for you. +But make amends now: Get you gon, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meete me i'th' Morning: thither he +Will come, to know his Destinie. +Your Vessels, and your Spels prouide, +Your Charmes, and euery thing beside; +I am for th' Ayre: This night Ile spend +Vnto a dismall, and a Fatall end. +Great businesse must be wrought ere Noone. +Vpon the Corner of the Moone +There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound, +Ile catch it ere it come to ground; +And that distill'd by Magicke slights, +Shall raise such Artificiall Sprights, +As by the strength of their illusion, +Shall draw him on to his Confusion. +He shall spurne Fate, scorne Death, and beare +His hopes 'boue Wisedome, Grace, and Feare: +And you all know, Security +Is Mortals cheefest Enemie. + +Musicke, and a Song. + +Hearke, I am call'd: my little Spirit see +Sits in Foggy cloud, and stayes for me. + +Sing within. Come away, come away, &c. + + 1 Come, let's make hast, shee'l soone be +Backe againe. + +Exeunt. + + +Scaena Sexta. + +Enter Lenox, and another Lord. + + Lenox. My former Speeches, +Haue but hit your Thoughts +Which can interpret farther: Onely I say +Things haue bin strangely borne. The gracious Duncan +Was pittied of Macbeth: marry he was dead: +And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late, +Whom you may say (if't please you) Fleans kill'd, +For Fleans fled: Men must not walke too late. +Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous +It was for Malcolme, and for Donalbane +To kill their gracious Father? Damned Fact, +How it did greeue Macbeth? Did he not straight +In pious rage, the two delinquents teare, +That were the Slaues of drinke, and thralles of sleepe? +Was not that Nobly done? I, and wisely too: +For 'twould haue anger'd any heart aliue +To heare the men deny't. So that I say, +He ha's borne all things well, and I do thinke, +That had he Duncans Sonnes vnder his Key, +(As, and't please Heauen he shall not) they should finde +What 'twere to kill a Father: So should Fleans. +But peace; for from broad words, and cause he fayl'd +His presence at the Tyrants Feast, I heare +Macduffe liues in disgrace. Sir, can you tell +Where he bestowes himselfe? + Lord. The Sonnes of Duncane +(From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth) +Liues in the English Court, and is receyu'd +Of the most Pious Edward, with such grace, +That the maleuolence of Fortune, nothing +Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduffe +Is gone, to pray the Holy King, vpon his ayd +To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward, +That by the helpe of these (with him aboue) +To ratifie the Worke) we may againe +Giue to our Tables meate, sleepe to our Nights: +Free from our Feasts, and Banquets bloody kniues; +Do faithfull Homage, and receiue free Honors, +All which we pine for now. And this report +Hath so exasperate their King, that hee +Prepares for some attempt of Warre + + Len. Sent he to Macduffe? + Lord. He did: and with an absolute Sir, not I +The clowdy Messenger turnes me his backe, +And hums; as who should say, you'l rue the time +That clogges me with this Answer + + Lenox. And that well might +Aduise him to a Caution, t' hold what distance +His wisedome can prouide. Some holy Angell +Flye to the Court of England, and vnfold +His Message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soone returne to this our suffering Country, +Vnder a hand accurs'd + + Lord. Ile send my Prayers with him. + +Exeunt. + +Actus Quartus. Scena Prima. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches. + + 1 Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd + + 2 Thrice, and once the Hedge-Pigge whin'd + + 3 Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time + + 1 Round about the Caldron go: +In the poysond Entrailes throw +Toad, that vnder cold stone, +Dayes and Nights, ha's thirty one: +Sweltred Venom sleeping got, +Boyle thou first i'th' charmed pot + + All. Double, double, toile and trouble; +Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble + + 2 Fillet of a Fenny Snake, +In the Cauldron boyle and bake: +Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge, +Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge: +Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting, +Lizards legge, and Howlets wing: +For a Charme of powrefull trouble, +Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble + + All. Double, double, toyle and trouble, +Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble + + 3 Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolfe, +Witches Mummey, Maw, and Gulfe +Of the rauin'd salt Sea sharke: +Roote of Hemlocke, digg'd i'th' darke: +Liuer of Blaspheming Iew, +Gall of Goate, and Slippes of Yew, +Sliuer'd in the Moones Ecclipse: +Nose of Turke, and Tartars lips: +Finger of Birth-strangled Babe, +Ditch-deliuer'd by a Drab, +Make the Grewell thicke, and slab. +Adde thereto a Tigers Chawdron, +For th' Ingredience of our Cawdron + + All. Double, double, toyle and trouble, +Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble + + 2 Coole it with a Baboones blood, +Then the Charme is firme and good. +Enter Hecat, and the other three Witches. + + Hec. O well done: I commend your paines, +And euery one shall share i'th' gaines: +And now about the Cauldron sing +Like Elues and Fairies in a Ring, +Inchanting all that you put in. + +Musicke and a Song. Blacke Spirits, &c. + + 2 By the pricking of my Thumbes, +Something wicked this way comes: +Open Lockes, who euer knockes. +Enter Macbeth. + + Macb. How now you secret, black, & midnight Hags? +What is't you do? + All. A deed without a name + + Macb. I coniure you, by that which you Professe, +(How ere you come to know it) answer me: +Though you vntye the Windes, and let them fight +Against the Churches: Though the yesty Waues +Confound and swallow Nauigation vp: +Though bladed Corne be lodg'd, & Trees blown downe, +Though Castles topple on their Warders heads: +Though Pallaces, and Pyramids do slope +Their heads to their Foundations: Though the treasure +Of Natures Germaine, tumble altogether, +Euen till destruction sicken: Answer me +To what I aske you + + 1 Speake + + 2 Demand + + 3 Wee'l answer + + 1 Say, if th'hadst rather heare it from our mouthes, +Or from our Masters + + Macb. Call 'em: let me see 'em + + 1 Powre in Sowes blood, that hath eaten +Her nine Farrow: Greaze that's sweaten +From the Murderers Gibbet, throw +Into the Flame + + All. Come high or low: +Thy Selfe and Office deaftly show. +Thunder. 1. Apparation, an Armed Head. + + Macb. Tell me, thou vnknowne power + + 1 He knowes thy thought: +Heare his speech, but say thou nought + + 1 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth: +Beware Macduffe, +Beware the Thane of Fife: dismisse me. Enough. + +He Descends. + + Macb. What ere thou art, for thy good caution, thanks +Thou hast harp'd my feare aright. But one word more + + 1 He will not be commanded: heere's another +More potent then the first. + +Thunder. 2 Apparition, a Bloody Childe. + + 2 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth + + Macb. Had I three eares, Il'd heare thee + + Appar. Be bloody, bold, & resolute: +Laugh to scorne +The powre of man: For none of woman borne +Shall harme Macbeth. + +Descends. + + Mac. Then liue Macduffe: what need I feare of thee? +But yet Ile make assurance: double sure, +And take a Bond of Fate: thou shalt not liue, +That I may tell pale-hearted Feare, it lies; +And sleepe in spight of Thunder. + +Thunder 3 Apparation, a Childe Crowned, with a Tree in his hand. + +What is this, that rises like the issue of a King, +And weares vpon his Baby-brow, the round +And top of Soueraignty? + All. Listen, but speake not too't + + 3 Appar. Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care: +Who chafes, who frets, or where Conspirers are: +Macbeth shall neuer vanquish'd be, vntill +Great Byrnam Wood, to high Dunsmane Hill +Shall come against him. + +Descend. + + Macb. That will neuer bee: +Who can impresse the Forrest, bid the Tree +Vnfixe his earth-bound Root? Sweet boadments, good: +Rebellious dead, rise neuer till the Wood +Of Byrnan rise, and our high plac'd Macbeth +Shall liue the Lease of Nature, pay his breath +To time, and mortall Custome. Yet my Hart +Throbs to know one thing: Tell me, if your Art +Can tell so much: Shall Banquo's issue euer +Reigne in this Kingdome? + All. Seeke to know no more + + Macb. I will be satisfied. Deny me this, +And an eternall Curse fall on you: Let me know. +Why sinkes that Caldron? & what noise is this? + +Hoboyes + + 1 Shew + + 2 Shew + + 3 Shew + + All. Shew his Eyes, and greeue his Hart, +Come like shadowes, so depart. + +A shew of eight Kings, and Banquo last, with a glasse in his hand. + + Macb. Thou art too like the Spirit of Banquo: Down: +Thy Crowne do's seare mine Eye-bals. And thy haire +Thou other Gold-bound-brow, is like the first: +A third, is like the former. Filthy Hagges, +Why do you shew me this? - A fourth? Start eyes! +What will the Line stretch out to'th' cracke of Doome? +Another yet? A seauenth? Ile see no more: +And yet the eighth appeares, who beares a glasse, +Which shewes me many more: and some I see, +That two-fold Balles, and trebble Scepters carry. +Horrible sight: Now I see 'tis true, +For the Blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles vpon me, +And points at them for his. What? is this so? + 1 I Sir, all this is so. But why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come Sisters, cheere we vp his sprights, +And shew the best of our delights. +Ile Charme the Ayre to giue a sound, +While you performe your Antique round: +That this great King may kindly say, +Our duties, did his welcome pay. + +Musicke. The Witches Dance, and vanish. + + Macb. Where are they? Gone? +Let this pernitious houre, +Stand aye accursed in the Kalender. +Come in, without there. +Enter Lenox. + + Lenox. What's your Graces will + + Macb. Saw you the Weyard Sisters? + Lenox. No my Lord + + Macb. Came they not by you? + Lenox. No indeed my Lord + + Macb. Infected be the Ayre whereon they ride, +And damn'd all those that trust them. I did heare +The gallopping of Horse. Who was't came by? + Len. 'Tis two or three my Lord, that bring you word: +Macduff is fled to England + + Macb. Fled to England? + Len. I, my good Lord + + Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose neuer is o're-tooke +Vnlesse the deed go with it. From this moment, +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And euen now +To Crown my thoughts with Acts: be it thoght & done: +The Castle of Macduff, I will surprize. +Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword +His Wife, his Babes, and all vnfortunate Soules +That trace him in his Line. No boasting like a Foole, +This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole, +But no more sights. Where are these Gentlemen? +Come bring me where they are. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Macduffes Wife, her Son, and Rosse. + + Wife. What had he done, to make him fly the Land? + Rosse. You must haue patience Madam + + Wife. He had none: +His flight was madnesse: when our Actions do not, +Our feares do make vs Traitors + + Rosse. You know not +Whether it was his wisedome, or his feare + + Wife. Wisedom? to leaue his wife, to leaue his Babes, +His Mansion, and his Titles, in a place +From whence himselfe do's flye? He loues vs not, +He wants the naturall touch. For the poore Wren +(The most diminitiue of Birds) will fight, +Her yong ones in her Nest, against the Owle: +All is the Feare, and nothing is the Loue; +As little is the Wisedome, where the flight +So runnes against all reason + + Rosse. My deerest Cooz, +I pray you schoole your selfe. But for your Husband, +He is Noble, Wise, Iudicious, and best knowes +The fits o'th' Season. I dare not speake much further, +But cruell are the times, when we are Traitors +And do not know our selues: when we hold Rumor +From what we feare, yet know not what we feare, +But floate vpon a wilde and violent Sea +Each way, and moue. I take my leaue of you: +Shall not be long but Ile be heere againe: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climbe vpward, +To what they were before. My pretty Cosine, +Blessing vpon you + + Wife. Father'd he is, +And yet hee's Father-lesse + + Rosse. I am so much a Foole, should I stay longer +It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort. +I take my leaue at once. + +Exit Rosse. + + Wife. Sirra, your Fathers dead, +And what will you do now? How will you liue? + Son. As Birds do Mother + + Wife. What with Wormes, and Flyes? + Son. With what I get I meane, and so do they + + Wife. Poore Bird, +Thou'dst neuer Feare the Net, nor Lime, +The Pitfall, nor the Gin + + Son. Why should I Mother? +Poore Birds they are not set for: +My Father is not dead for all your saying + + Wife. Yes, he is dead: +How wilt thou do for a Father? + Son. Nay how will you do for a Husband? + Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market + + Son. Then you'l by 'em to sell againe + + Wife. Thou speak'st withall thy wit, +And yet I'faith with wit enough for thee + + Son. Was my Father a Traitor, Mother? + Wife. I, that he was + + Son. What is a Traitor? + Wife. Why one that sweares, and lyes + + Son. And be all Traitors, that do so + + Wife. Euery one that do's so, is a Traitor, +And must be hang'd + + Son. And must they all be hang'd, that swear and lye? + Wife. Euery one + + Son. Who must hang them? + Wife. Why, the honest men + + Son. Then the Liars and Swearers are Fools: for there +are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beate the honest men, +and hang vp them + + Wife. Now God helpe thee, poore Monkie: +But how wilt thou do for a Father? + Son. If he were dead, youl'd weepe for him: if you +would not, it were a good signe, that I should quickely +haue a new Father + + Wife. Poore pratler, how thou talk'st? +Enter a Messenger. + + Mes. Blesse you faire Dame: I am not to you known, +Though in your state of Honor I am perfect; +I doubt some danger do's approach you neerely. +If you will take a homely mans aduice, +Be not found heere: Hence with your little ones +To fright you thus. Me thinkes I am too sauage: +To do worse to you, were fell Cruelty, +Which is too nie your person. Heauen preserue you, +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit Messenger + + Wife. Whether should I flye? +I haue done no harme. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world: where to do harme +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly. Why then (alas) +Do I put vp that womanly defence, +To say I haue done no harme? +What are these faces? +Enter Murtherers. + + Mur. Where is your Husband? + Wife. I hope in no place so vnsanctified, +Where such as thou may'st finde him + + Mur. He's a Traitor + + Son. Thou ly'st thou shagge-ear'd Villaine + + Mur. What you Egge? +Yong fry of Treachery? + Son. He ha's kill'd me Mother, +Run away I pray you. + +Exit crying Murther. + + +Scaena Tertia. + +Enter Malcolme and Macduffe. + + Mal. Let vs seeke out some desolate shade, & there +Weepe our sad bosomes empty + + Macd. Let vs rather +Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men, +Bestride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne, +New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new sorowes +Strike heauen on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out +Like Syllable of Dolour + + Mal. What I beleeue, Ile waile; +What know, beleeue; and what I can redresse, +As I shall finde the time to friend: I wil. +What you haue spoke, it may be so perchance. +This Tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you haue lou'd him well, +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am yong, but something +You may discerne of him through me, and wisedome +To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe +T' appease an angry God + + Macd. I am not treacherous + + Malc. But Macbeth is. +A good and vertuous Nature may recoyle +In an Imperiall charge. But I shall craue your pardon: +That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose; +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. +Though all things foule, would wear the brows of grace +Yet Grace must still looke so + + Macd. I haue lost my Hopes + + Malc. Perchance euen there +Where I did finde my doubts. +Why in that rawnesse left you Wife, and Childe? +Those precious Motiues, those strong knots of Loue, +Without leaue-taking. I pray you, +Let not my Iealousies, be your Dishonors, +But mine owne Safeties: you may be rightly iust, +What euer I shall thinke + + Macd. Bleed, bleed poore Country, +Great Tyrrany, lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodnesse dare not check thee: wear y thy wrongs, +The Title, is affear'd. Far thee well Lord, +I would not be the Villaine that thou think'st, +For the whole Space that's in the Tyrants Graspe, +And the rich East to boot + + Mal. Be not offended: +I speake not as in absolute feare of you: +I thinke our Country sinkes beneath the yoake, +It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall, +There would be hands vplifted in my right: +And heere from gracious England haue I offer +Of goodly thousands. But for all this, +When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head, +Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country +Shall haue more vices then it had before, +More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer, +By him that shall succeede + + Macd. What should he be? + Mal. It is my selfe I meane: in whom I know +All the particulars of Vice so grafted, +That when they shall be open'd, blacke Macbeth +Will seeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State +Esteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd +With my confinelesse harmes + + Macd. Not in the Legions +Of horrid Hell, can come a Diuell more damn'd +In euils, to top Macbeth + + Mal. I grant him Bloody, +Luxurious, Auaricious, False, Deceitfull, +Sodaine, Malicious, smacking of euery sinne +That ha's a name. But there's no bottome, none +In my Voluptuousnesse: Your Wiues, your Daughters, +Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill vp +The Cesterne of my Lust, and my Desire +All continent Impediments would ore-beare +That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth, +Then such an one to reigne + + Macd. Boundlesse intemperance +In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene +Th' vntimely emptying of the happy Throne, +And fall of many Kings. But feare not yet +To take vpon you what is yours: you may +Conuey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seeme cold. The time you may so hoodwinke: +We haue willing Dames enough: there cannot be +That Vulture in you, to deuoure so many +As will to Greatnesse dedicate themselues, +Finding it so inclinde + + Mal. With this, there growes +In my most ill-composd Affection, such +A stanchlesse Auarice, that were I King, +I should cut off the Nobles for their Lands, +Desire his Iewels, and this others House, +And my more-hauing, would be as a Sawce +To make me hunger more, that I should forge +Quarrels vniust against the Good and Loyall, +Destroying them for wealth + + Macd. This Auarice +stickes deeper: growes with more pernicious roote +Then Summer-seeming Lust: and it hath bin +The Sword of our slaine Kings: yet do not feare, +Scotland hath Foysons, to fill vp your will +Of your meere Owne. All these are portable, +With other Graces weigh'd + + Mal. But I haue none. The King-becoming Graces, +As Iustice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenesse, +Bounty, Perseuerance, Mercy, Lowlinesse, +Deuotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude, +I haue no rellish of them, but abound +In the diuision of each seuerall Crime, +Acting it many wayes. Nay, had I powre, I should +Poure the sweet Milke of Concord, into Hell, +Vprore the vniuersall peace, confound +All vnity on earth + + Macd. O Scotland, Scotland + + Mal. If such a one be fit to gouerne, speake: +I am as I haue spoken + + Mac. Fit to gouern? No not to liue. O Natio[n] miserable! +With an vntitled Tyrant, bloody Sceptred, +When shalt thou see thy wholsome dayes againe? +Since that the truest Issue of thy Throne +By his owne Interdiction stands accust, +And do's blaspheme his breed? Thy Royall Father +Was a most Sainted-King: the Queene that bore thee, +Oftner vpon her knees, then on her feet, +Dy'de euery day she liu'd. Fare thee well, +These Euils thou repeat'st vpon thy selfe, +Hath banish'd me from Scotland. O my Brest, +Thy hope ends heere + + Mal. Macduff, this Noble passion +Childe of integrity, hath from my soule +Wip'd the blacke Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts +To thy good Truth, and Honor. Diuellish Macbeth, +By many of these traines, hath sought to win me +Into his power: and modest Wisedome pluckes me +From ouer-credulous hast: but God aboue +Deale betweene thee and me; For euen now +I put my selfe to thy Direction, and +Vnspeake mine owne detraction. Heere abiure +The taints, and blames I laide vpon my selfe, +For strangers to my Nature. I am yet +Vnknowne to Woman, neuer was forsworne, +Scarsely haue coueted what was mine owne. +At no time broke my Faith, would not betray +The Deuill to his Fellow, and delight +No lesse in truth then life. My first false speaking +Was this vpon my selfe. What I am truly +Is thine, and my poore Countries to command: +Whither indeed, before they heere approach +Old Seyward with ten thousand warlike men +Already at a point, was setting foorth: +Now wee'l together, and the chance of goodnesse +Be like our warranted Quarrell. Why are you silent? + Macd. Such welcome, and vnwelcom things at once +'Tis hard to reconcile. +Enter a Doctor. + + Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth +I pray you? + Doct. I Sir: there are a crew of wretched Soules +That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces +The great assay of Art. But at his touch, +Such sanctity hath Heauen giuen his hand, +They presently amend. +Enter. + + Mal. I thanke you Doctor + + Macd. What's the Disease he meanes? + Mal. Tis call'd the Euill. +A most myraculous worke in this good King, +Which often since my heere remaine in England, +I haue seene him do: How he solicites heauen +Himselfe best knowes: but strangely visited people +All swolne and Vlcerous, pittifull to the eye, +The meere dispaire of Surgery, he cures, +Hanging a golden stampe about their neckes, +Put on with holy Prayers, and 'tis spoken +To the succeeding Royalty he leaues +The healing Benediction. With this strange vertue, +He hath a heauenly guift of Prophesie, +And sundry Blessings hang about his Throne, +That speake him full of Grace. +Enter Rosse. + + Macd. See who comes heere + + Malc. My Countryman: but yet I know him not + + Macd. My euer gentle Cozen, welcome hither + + Malc. I know him now. Good God betimes remoue +The meanes that makes vs Strangers + + Rosse. Sir, Amen + + Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? + Rosse. Alas poore Countrey, +Almost affraid to know it selfe. It cannot +Be call'd our Mother, but our Graue; where nothing +But who knowes nothing, is once seene to smile: +Where sighes, and groanes, and shrieks that rent the ayre +Are made, not mark'd: Where violent sorrow seemes +A Moderne extasie: The Deadmans knell, +Is there scarse ask'd for who, and good mens liues +Expire before the Flowers in their Caps, +Dying, or ere they sicken + + Macd. Oh Relation; too nice, and yet too true + + Malc. What's the newest griefe? + Rosse. That of an houres age, doth hisse the speaker, +Each minute teemes a new one + + Macd. How do's my Wife? + Rosse. Why well + + Macd. And all my Children? + Rosse. Well too + + Macd. The Tyrant ha's not batter'd at their peace? + Rosse. No, they were wel at peace, when I did leaue 'em + Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: How gos't? + Rosse. When I came hither to transport the Tydings +Which I haue heauily borne, there ran a Rumour +Of many worthy Fellowes, that were out, +Which was to my beleefe witnest the rather, +For that I saw the Tyrants Power a-foot. +Now is the time of helpe: your eye in Scotland +Would create Soldiours, make our women fight, +To doffe their dire distresses + + Malc. Bee't their comfort +We are comming thither: Gracious England hath +Lent vs good Seyward, and ten thousand men, +An older, and a better Souldier, none +That Christendome giues out + + Rosse. Would I could answer +This comfort with the like. But I haue words +That would be howl'd out in the desert ayre, +Where hearing should not latch them + + Macd. What concerne they, +The generall cause, or is it a Fee-griefe +Due to some single brest? + Rosse. No minde that's honest +But in it shares some woe, though the maine part +Pertaines to you alone + + Macd. If it be mine +Keepe it not from me, quickly let me haue it + + Rosse. Let not your eares dispise my tongue for euer, +Which shall possesse them with the heauiest sound +that euer yet they heard + + Macd. Humh: I guesse at it + + Rosse. Your Castle is surpriz'd: your Wife, and Babes +Sauagely slaughter'd: To relate the manner +Were on the Quarry of these murther'd Deere +To adde the death of you + + Malc. Mercifull Heauen: +What man, ne're pull your hat vpon your browes: +Giue sorrow words; the griefe that do's not speake, +Whispers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it breake + + Macd. My Children too? + Ro. Wife, Children, Seruants, all that could be found + + Macd. And I must be from thence? My wife kil'd too? + Rosse. I haue said + + Malc. Be comforted. +Let's make vs Med'cines of our great Reuenge, +To cure this deadly greefe + + Macd. He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones? +Did you say All? Oh Hell-Kite! All? +What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme +At one fell swoope? + Malc. Dispute it like a man + + Macd. I shall do so: +But I must also feele it as a man; +I cannot but remember such things were +That were most precious to me: Did heauen looke on, +And would not take their part? Sinfull Macduff, +They were all strooke for thee: Naught that I am, +Not for their owne demerits, but for mine +Fell slaughter on their soules: Heauen rest them now + + Mal. Be this the Whetstone of your sword, let griefe +Conuert to anger: blunt not the heart, enrage it + + Macd. O I could play the woman with mine eyes, +And Braggart with my tongue. But gentle Heauens, +Cut short all intermission: Front to Front, +Bring thou this Fiend of Scotland, and my selfe +Within my Swords length set him, if he scape +Heauen forgiue him too + + Mal. This time goes manly: +Come go we to the King, our Power is ready, +Our lacke is nothing but our leaue. Macbeth +Is ripe for shaking, and the Powres aboue +Put on their Instruments: Receiue what cheere you may, +The Night is long, that neuer findes the Day. + +Exeunt. + +Actus Quintus. Scena Prima. + +Enter a Doctor of Physicke, and a Wayting Gentlewoman. + + Doct. I haue too Nights watch'd with you, but can +perceiue no truth in your report. When was it shee last +walk'd? + Gent. Since his Maiesty went into the Field, I haue +seene her rise from her bed, throw her Night-Gown vppon +her, vnlocke her Closset, take foorth paper, folde it, +write vpon't, read it, afterwards Seale it, and againe returne +to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleepe + + Doct. A great perturbation in Nature, to receyue at +once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. +In this slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other +actuall performances, what (at any time) haue you heard +her say? + Gent. That Sir, which I will not report after her + + Doct. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you should + + Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, hauing no witnesse +to confirme my speech. +Enter Lady, with a Taper. + +Lo you, heere she comes: This is her very guise, and vpon +my life fast asleepe: obserue her, stand close + + Doct. How came she by that light? + Gent. Why it stood by her: she ha's light by her continually, +'tis her command + + Doct. You see her eyes are open + + Gent. I, but their sense are shut + + Doct. What is it she do's now? +Looke how she rubbes her hands + + Gent. It is an accustom'd action with her, to seeme +thus washing her hands: I haue knowne her continue in +this a quarter of an houre + + Lad. Yet heere's a spot + + Doct. Heark, she speaks, I will set downe what comes +from her, to satisfie my remembrance the more strongly + + La. Out damned spot: out I say. One: Two: Why +then 'tis time to doo't: Hell is murky. Fye, my Lord, fie, +a Souldier, and affear'd? what need we feare? who knowes +it, when none can call our powre to accompt: yet who +would haue thought the olde man to haue had so much +blood in him + + Doct. Do you marke that? + Lad. The Thane of Fife, had a wife: where is she now? +What will these hands ne're be cleane? No more o'that +my Lord, no more o'that: you marre all with this starting + + Doct. Go too, go too: +You haue knowne what you should not + + Gent. She ha's spoke what shee should not, I am sure +of that: Heauen knowes what she ha's knowne + + La. Heere's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes +of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. +Oh, oh, oh + + Doct. What a sigh is there? The hart is sorely charg'd + + Gent. I would not haue such a heart in my bosome, +for the dignity of the whole body + + Doct. Well, well, well + + Gent. Pray God it be sir + + Doct. This disease is beyond my practise: yet I haue +knowne those which haue walkt in their sleep, who haue +dyed holily in their beds + + Lad. Wash your hands, put on your Night-Gowne, +looke not so pale: I tell you yet againe Banquo's buried; +he cannot come out on's graue + + Doct. Euen so? + Lady. To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate: +Come, come, come, come, giue me your hand: What's +done, cannot be vndone. To bed, to bed, to bed. + +Exit Lady. + + Doct. Will she go now to bed? + Gent. Directly + + Doct. Foule whisp'rings are abroad: vnnaturall deeds +Do breed vnnaturall troubles: infected mindes +To their deafe pillowes will discharge their Secrets: +More needs she the Diuine, then the Physitian: +God, God forgiue vs all. Looke after her, +Remoue from her the meanes of all annoyance, +And still keepe eyes vpon her: So goodnight, +My minde she ha's mated, and amaz'd my sight. +I thinke, but dare not speake + + Gent. Good night good Doctor. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Drum and Colours. Enter Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, Lenox, +Soldiers. + + Ment. The English powre is neere, led on by Malcolm, +His Vnkle Seyward, and the good Macduff. +Reuenges burne in them: for their deere causes +Would to the bleeding, and the grim Alarme +Excite the mortified man + + Ang. Neere Byrnan wood +Shall we well meet them, that way are they comming + + Cath. Who knowes if Donalbane be with his brother? + Len. For certaine Sir, he is not: I haue a File +Of all the Gentry; there is Seywards Sonne, +And many vnruffe youths, that euen now +Protest their first of Manhood + + Ment. What do's the Tyrant + + Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly Fortifies: +Some say hee's mad: Others, that lesser hate him, +Do call it valiant Fury, but for certaine +He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause +Within the belt of Rule + + Ang. Now do's he feele +His secret Murthers sticking on his hands, +Now minutely Reuolts vpbraid his Faith-breach: +Those he commands, moue onely in command, +Nothing in loue: Now do's he feele his Title +Hang loose about him, like a Giants Robe +Vpon a dwarfish Theefe + + Ment. Who then shall blame +His pester'd Senses to recoyle, and start, +When all that is within him, do's condemne +It selfe, for being there + + Cath. Well, march we on, +To giue Obedience, where 'tis truly ow'd: +Meet we the Med'cine of the sickly Weale, +And with him poure we in our Countries purge, +Each drop of vs + + Lenox. Or so much as it needes, +To dew the Soueraigne Flower, and drowne the Weeds: +Make we our March towards Birnan. + +Exeunt. marching. + + +Scaena Tertia. + +Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants. + + Macb. Bring me no more Reports, let them flye all: +Till Byrnane wood remoue to Dunsinane, +I cannot taint with Feare. What's the Boy Malcolme? +Was he not borne of woman? The Spirits that know +All mortall Consequences, haue pronounc'd me thus: +Feare not Macbeth, no man that's borne of woman +Shall ere haue power vpon thee. Then fly false Thanes, +And mingle with the English Epicures, +The minde I sway by, and the heart I beare, +Shall neuer sagge with doubt, nor shake with feare. +Enter Seruant. + +The diuell damne thee blacke, thou cream-fac'd Loone: +Where got'st thou that Goose-looke + + Ser. There is ten thousand + + Macb. Geese Villaine? + Ser. Souldiers Sir + + Macb. Go pricke thy face, and ouer-red thy feare +Thou Lilly-liuer'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch? +Death of thy Soule, those Linnen cheekes of thine +Are Counsailers to feare. What Soldiers Whay-face? + Ser. The English Force, so please you + + Macb. Take thy face hence. Seyton, I am sick at hart, +When I behold: Seyton, I say, this push +Will cheere me euer, or dis-eate me now. +I haue liu'd long enough: my way of life +Is falne into the Seare, the yellow Leafe, +And that which should accompany Old-Age, +As Honor, Loue, Obedience, Troopes of Friends, +I must not looke to haue: but in their steed, +Curses, not lowd but deepe, Mouth-honor, breath +Which the poore heart would faine deny, and dare not. +Seyton? +Enter Seyton. + + Sey. What's your gracious pleasure? + Macb. What Newes more? + Sey. All is confirm'd my Lord, which was reported + + Macb. Ile fight, till from my bones, my flesh be hackt. +Giue me my Armor + + Seyt. 'Tis not needed yet + + Macb. Ile put it on: +Send out moe Horses, skirre the Country round, +Hang those that talke of Feare. Giue me mine Armor: +How do's your Patient, Doctor? + Doct. Not so sicke my Lord, +As she is troubled with thicke-comming Fancies +That keepe her from her rest + + Macb. Cure of that: +Can'st thou not Minister to a minde diseas'd, +Plucke from the Memory a rooted Sorrow, +Raze out the written troubles of the Braine, +And with some sweet Obliuious Antidote +Cleanse the stufft bosome, of that perillous stuffe +Which weighes vpon the heart? + Doct. Therein the Patient +Must minister to himselfe + + Macb. Throw Physicke to the Dogs, Ile none of it. +Come, put mine Armour on: giue me my Staffe: +Seyton, send out: Doctor, the Thanes flye from me: +Come sir, dispatch. If thou could'st Doctor, cast +The Water of my Land, finde her Disease, +And purge it to a sound and pristine Health, +I would applaud thee to the very Eccho, +That should applaud againe. Pull't off I say, +What Rubarb, Cyme, or what Purgatiue drugge +Would scowre these English hence: hear'st y of them? + Doct. I my good Lord: your Royall Preparation +Makes vs heare something + + Macb. Bring it after me: +I will not be affraid of Death and Bane, +Till Birnane Forrest come to Dunsinane + + Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away, and cleere, +Profit againe should hardly draw me heere. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Quarta. + +Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe, +Seywards Sonne, +Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, and Soldiers Marching. + + Malc. Cosins, I hope the dayes are neere at hand +That Chambers will be safe + + Ment. We doubt it nothing + + Seyw. What wood is this before vs? + Ment. The wood of Birnane + + Malc. Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough, +And bear't before him, thereby shall we shadow +The numbers of our Hoast, and make discouery +Erre in report of vs + + Sold. It shall be done + + Syw. We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant +Keepes still in Dunsinane, and will indure +Our setting downe befor't + + Malc. 'Tis his maine hope: +For where there is aduantage to be giuen, +Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt, +And none serue with him, but constrained things, +Whose hearts are absent too + + Macd. Let our iust Censures +Attend the true euent, and put we on +Industrious Souldiership + + Sey. The time approaches, +That will with due decision make vs know +What we shall say we haue, and what we owe: +Thoughts speculatiue, their vnsure hopes relate, +But certaine issue, stroakes must arbitrate, +Towards which, aduance the warre. + +Exeunt. marching + +Scena Quinta. + +Enter Macbeth, Seyton, & Souldiers, with Drum and Colours. + + Macb. Hang out our Banners on the outward walls, +The Cry is still, they come: our Castles strength +Will laugh a Siedge to scorne: Heere let them lye, +Till Famine and the Ague eate them vp: +Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, +We might haue met them darefull, beard to beard, +And beate them backward home. What is that noyse? + +A Cry within of Women. + + Sey. It is the cry of women, my good Lord + + Macb. I haue almost forgot the taste of Feares: +The time ha's beene, my sences would haue cool'd +To heare a Night-shrieke, and my Fell of haire +Would at a dismall Treatise rowze, and stirre +As life were in't. I haue supt full with horrors, +Direnesse familiar to my slaughterous thoughts +Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry? + Sey. The Queene (my Lord) is dead + + Macb. She should haue dy'de heereafter; +There would haue beene a time for such a word: +To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow, +Creepes in this petty pace from day to day, +To the last Syllable of Recorded time: +And all our yesterdayes, haue lighted Fooles +The way to dusty death. Out, out, breefe Candle, +Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player, +That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage, +And then is heard no more. It is a Tale +Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury +Signifying nothing. +Enter a Messenger. + +Thou com'st to vse thy Tongue: thy Story quickly + + Mes. Gracious my Lord, +I should report that which I say I saw, +But know not how to doo't + + Macb. Well, say sir + + Mes. As I did stand my watch vpon the Hill +I look'd toward Byrnane, and anon me thought +The Wood began to moue + + Macb. Lyar, and Slaue + + Mes. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: +Within this three Mile may you see it comming. +I say, a mouing Groue + + Macb. If thou speak'st false, +Vpon the next Tree shall thou hang aliue +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 th' Equiuocation of the Fiend, +That lies like truth. Feare not, till Byrnane Wood +Do come to Dunsinane, and now a Wood +Comes toward Dunsinane. Arme, Arme, and out, +If this which he auouches, do's appeare, +There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. +I 'ginne to be a-weary of the Sun, +And wish th' estate o'th' world were now vndon. +Ring the Alarum Bell, blow Winde, come wracke, +At least wee'l dye with Harnesse on our backe. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Sexta. + +Drumme and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe, and +their Army, +with Boughes. + + Mal. Now neere enough: +Your leauy Skreenes throw downe, +And shew like those you are: You (worthy Vnkle) +Shall with my Cosin your right Noble Sonne +Leade our first Battell. Worthy Macduffe, and wee +Shall take vpon's what else remaines to do, +According to our order + + Sey. Fare you well: +Do we but finde the Tyrants power to night, +Let vs be beaten, if we cannot fight + + Macd. Make all our Trumpets speak, giue the[m] all breath +Those clamorous Harbingers of Blood, & Death. + +Exeunt. + +Alarums continued. + + +Scena Septima. + +Enter Macbeth. + + Macb. They haue tied me to a stake, I cannot flye, +But Beare-like I must fight the course. What's he +That was not borne of Woman? Such a one +Am I to feare, or none. +Enter young Seyward. + + Y.Sey. What is thy name? + Macb. Thou'lt be affraid to heare it + + Y.Sey. No: though thou call'st thy selfe a hoter name +Then any is in hell + + Macb. My name's Macbeth + + Y.Sey. The diuell himselfe could not pronounce a Title +More hatefull to mine eare + + Macb. No: nor more fearefull + + Y.Sey. Thou lyest abhorred Tyrant, with my Sword +Ile proue the lye thou speak'st. + +Fight, and young Seyward slaine. + + Macb. Thou was't borne of woman; +But Swords I smile at, Weapons laugh to scorne, +Brandish'd by man that's of a Woman borne. +Enter. + +Alarums. Enter Macduffe. + + Macd. That way the noise is: Tyrant shew thy face, +If thou beest slaine, and with no stroake of mine, +My Wife and Childrens Ghosts will haunt me still: +I cannot strike at wretched Kernes, whose armes +Are hyr'd to beare their Staues; either thou Macbeth, +Or else my Sword with an vnbattered edge +I sheath againe vndeeded. There thou should'st be, +By this great clatter, one of greatest note +Seemes bruited. Let me finde him Fortune, +And more I begge not. + +Exit. Alarums. + +Enter Malcolme and Seyward. + + Sey. This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred: +The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight, +The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre, +The day almost it selfe professes yours, +And little is to do + + Malc. We haue met with Foes +That strike beside vs + + Sey. Enter Sir, the Castle. + +Exeunt. Alarum + +Enter Macbeth. + + Macb. Why should I play the Roman Foole, and dye +On mine owne sword? whiles I see liues, the gashes +Do better vpon them. +Enter Macduffe. + + Macd. Turne Hell-hound, turne + + Macb. Of all men else I haue auoyded thee: +But get thee backe, my soule is too much charg'd +With blood of thine already + + Macd. I haue no words, +My voice is in my Sword, thou bloodier Villaine +Then tearmes can giue thee out. + +Fight: Alarum + + Macb. Thou loosest labour +As easie may'st thou the intrenchant Ayre +With thy keene Sword impresse, as make me bleed: +Let fall thy blade on vulnerable Crests, +I beare a charmed Life, which must not yeeld +To one of woman borne + + Macd. Dispaire thy Charme, +And let the Angell whom thou still hast seru'd +Tell thee, Macduffe was from his Mothers womb +Vntimely ript + + Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tels mee so; +For it hath Cow'd my better part of man: +And be these Iugling Fiends no more beleeu'd, +That palter with vs in a double sence, +That keepe the word of promise to our eare, +And breake it to our hope. Ile not fight with thee + + Macd. Then yeeld thee Coward, +And liue to be the shew, and gaze o'th' time. +Wee'l haue thee, as our rarer Monsters are +Painted vpon a pole, and vnder-writ, +Heere may you see the Tyrant + + Macb. I will not yeeld +To kisse the ground before young Malcolmes feet, +And to be baited with the Rabbles curse. +Though Byrnane wood be come to Dunsinane, +And thou oppos'd, being of no woman borne, +Yet I will try the last. Before my body, +I throw my warlike Shield: Lay on Macduffe, +And damn'd be him, that first cries hold, enough. + +Exeunt. fighting. Alarums. + +Enter Fighting, and Macbeth slaine. + +Retreat, and Flourish. Enter with Drumme and Colours, Malcolm, +Seyward, +Rosse, Thanes, & Soldiers. + + Mal. I would the Friends we misse, were safe arriu'd + + Sey. Some must go off: and yet by these I see, +So great a day as this is cheapely bought + + Mal. Macduffe is missing, and your Noble Sonne + + Rosse. Your son my Lord, ha's paid a souldiers debt, +He onely liu'd but till he was a man, +The which no sooner had his Prowesse confirm'd +In the vnshrinking station where he fought, +But like a man he dy'de + + Sey. Then he is dead? + Rosse. I, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow +Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then +It hath no end + + Sey. Had he his hurts before? + Rosse. I, on the Front + + Sey. Why then, Gods Soldier be he: +Had I as many Sonnes, as I haue haires, +I would not wish them to a fairer death: +And so his Knell is knoll'd + + Mal. Hee's worth more sorrow, +and that Ile spend for him + + Sey. He's worth no more, +They say he parted well, and paid his score, +And so God be with him. Here comes newer comfort. +Enter Macduffe, with Macbeths head. + + Macd. Haile King, for so thou art. +Behold where stands +Th' Vsurpers cursed head: the time is free: +I see thee compast with thy Kingdomes Pearle, +That speake my salutation in their minds: +Whose voyces I desire alowd with mine. +Haile King of Scotland + + All. Haile King of Scotland. + +Flourish. + + Mal. We shall not spend a large expence of time, +Before we reckon with your seuerall loues, +And make vs euen with you. My Thanes and Kinsmen +Henceforth be Earles, the first that euer Scotland +In such an Honor nam'd: What's more to do, +Which would be planted newly with the time, +As calling home our exil'd Friends abroad, +That fled the Snares of watchfull Tyranny, +Producing forth the cruell Ministers +Of this dead Butcher, and his Fiend-like Queene; +Who (as 'tis thought) by selfe and violent hands, +Tooke off her life. This, and what need full else +That call's vpon vs, by the Grace of Grace, +We will performe in measure, time, and place: +So thankes to all at once, and to each one, +Whom we inuite, to see vs Crown'd at Scone. + +Flourish. Exeunt Omnes. + + +FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF MACBETH. diff --git a/latex_pdf.py b/latex_pdf.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2094397 --- /dev/null +++ b/latex_pdf.py @@ -0,0 +1,116 @@ +import os +import sys +import subprocess +import shlex +from machine import * + +class pdfCreator(): + + def __init__(self,dn,fn,inv): + self.invention = inv + self.file = self.create_TeX_file(dn,fn) + self.title = self.create_title() + self.abstract = self.create_abstract() + self.illustrations = self.create_illustrations() + self.description = self.create_description() + self.claims = self.create_claims() + self.file_contents = self.create_LaTeX() + + def create_TeX_file(self,dname,fname): + + if not os.path.exists(dname): + os.makedirs(dname) + + return open(dname + "/" + fname + ".tex","a+") + + def create_LaTeX(self): + # write article class + text = "\\documentclass[english]{uspatent}" + # begin document + text += "\n\\begin{document}" + # make title + text += self.title + + # make abstract section + text += self.abstract + + # make drawings section + text += self.illustrations + + # make embodiments section + text += self.description + + # make claims section + text += self.claims + + # end document + text += "\n\\end{document}" + + return text + + def create_title(self): + # title + title = "\n\\title{" + self.invention.title + "}" + # date + title += "\n\\date{\\today}" + # inventor + title += "\n\\inventor{First Named Inventor}" + # write the title + title += "\n\\maketitle" + + return title + + def create_abstract(self): + abs = "\n\\patentSection{Abstract}" + abs += "\n\\patentParagraph " + self.invention.abstract + + return abs + + def create_illustrations(self): + ill = "\n\\patentSection{Brief Description of the Drawings}" + for i in self.invention.illustrations: + ill += "\n\\patentParagraph " + i + + return ill + + def create_description(self): + desc = "\n\\patentSection{Detailed Description of the Preferred Embodiments}" + desc += "\n\\patentParagraph " + self.invention.description + + return desc + + def create_claims(self): + cla = "\n\\patentClaimsStart" + + for i,claim in enumerate(self.invention.claims): + cla += "\n\\beginClaim{Claim" + str(i) + "}" + claim[2:] + + cla += "\n\\patentClaimsEnd" + + return cla + + def write_LaTeX_to_file(self): + self.file.write(self.file_contents.replace("\n\n","\n\\patentParagraph ")) + + + + #def compile_LaTeX(self): + #process = subprocess.call("pdflatex test/test.tex", shell=True) + + +if __name__ == '__main__': + + import sys + + text = open(sys.argv[1],"r").read().decode('ascii', errors='replace') + dir_name = sys.argv[2] + file_name = sys.argv[3] + + invention = Invention(text) + + pdf = pdfCreator(dir_name,file_name,invention) + pdf.write_LaTeX_to_file() + #pdf.compile_LaTeX() + + + From 2d4814b5b2ce41f93f534478e8d582623d1fb12e Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Marty Miller Date: Sat, 17 May 2014 19:50:03 +0200 Subject: [PATCH 2/2] Adding more comments --- latex_pdf.py | 32 +++++++++++++++----------------- 1 file changed, 15 insertions(+), 17 deletions(-) diff --git a/latex_pdf.py b/latex_pdf.py index 2094397..14bab6f 100644 --- a/latex_pdf.py +++ b/latex_pdf.py @@ -6,6 +6,7 @@ class pdfCreator(): + # declare and define all variables in the constructor def __init__(self,dn,fn,inv): self.invention = inv self.file = self.create_TeX_file(dn,fn) @@ -16,6 +17,7 @@ def __init__(self,dn,fn,inv): self.claims = self.create_claims() self.file_contents = self.create_LaTeX() + # used to open a new folder and open appropriate file def create_TeX_file(self,dname,fname): if not os.path.exists(dname): @@ -23,62 +25,57 @@ def create_TeX_file(self,dname,fname): return open(dname + "/" + fname + ".tex","a+") + # assemble the full LaTeX text def create_LaTeX(self): - # write article class - text = "\\documentclass[english]{uspatent}" - # begin document - text += "\n\\begin{document}" - # make title + text = "\\documentclass[english]{uspatent}\n\\begin{document}" + text += self.title - - # make abstract section + text += self.abstract - # make drawings section text += self.illustrations - # make embodiments section text += self.description - # make claims section text += self.claims - # end document text += "\n\\end{document}" return text + # assemble the title featuers def create_title(self): - # title title = "\n\\title{" + self.invention.title + "}" - # date title += "\n\\date{\\today}" - # inventor title += "\n\\inventor{First Named Inventor}" - # write the title title += "\n\\maketitle" return title + # put the abstract together def create_abstract(self): abs = "\n\\patentSection{Abstract}" abs += "\n\\patentParagraph " + self.invention.abstract return abs + # collect image descriptions def create_illustrations(self): ill = "\n\\patentSection{Brief Description of the Drawings}" for i in self.invention.illustrations: + # seperate paragraph for each, maybe not necessary ill += "\n\\patentParagraph " + i return ill + # put description together def create_description(self): desc = "\n\\patentSection{Detailed Description of the Preferred Embodiments}" desc += "\n\\patentParagraph " + self.invention.description return desc + # assemble the claims together def create_claims(self): cla = "\n\\patentClaimsStart" @@ -89,11 +86,12 @@ def create_claims(self): return cla + # write the entire text to the file def write_LaTeX_to_file(self): + # to fix paragraph formatting self.file.write(self.file_contents.replace("\n\n","\n\\patentParagraph ")) - - + # function to compile the LaTeX formatting, not working yet #def compile_LaTeX(self): #process = subprocess.call("pdflatex test/test.tex", shell=True)