These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep," — the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
What do you mean?
Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the house:
"Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, — Macbeth shall sleep no more!"
Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,
You do unbend your noble strength to think
So brainsickly of things. — Go get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand. —
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: go carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.
I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again I dare not.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit. Knocking within.]
Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
[Re-enter Lady Macbeth.]
My hands are of your color, but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] I hear knocking
At the south entry: — retire we to our chamber.
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended. — [Knocking within.] Hark, more
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us
And show us to be watchers: — be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. [Knocking within.]
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!