Act IScene V
Inverness. A Room in Macbeth’s Castle
Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.
Lady Macbeth
“They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfect’st report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the King, who all-hailed me, ‘Thane of Cawdor’; by which title, before, these Weird Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with ‘Hail, king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee (my dearest partner of greatness) that thou might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis’d thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.”
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt beWhat thou art promis’d. Yet do I fear thy nature;It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindnessTo catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great;Art not without ambition, but withoutThe illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou’dst have, great Glamis,That which cries, “Thus thou must do,” if thou have it;And that which rather thou dost fear to do,Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,And chastise with the valour of my tongueAll that impedes thee from the golden round,Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seemTo have thee crown’d withal.
Enter a Messenger.
What is your tidings?
Messenger
The King comes here tonight.
Lady Macbeth
Thou’rt mad to say it.Is not thy master with him? who, were’t so,Would have inform’d for preparation.
Messenger
So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming.One of my fellows had the speed of him,Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely moreThan would make up his message.
Lady Macbeth
Give him tending.He brings great news.
Exit Messenger.
The raven himself is hoarseThat croaks the fatal entrance of DuncanUnder my battlements. Come, you spiritsThat tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-fullOf direst cruelty! make thick my blood,Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse,That no compunctious visitings of natureShake my fell purpose, nor keep peace betweenTh’ effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,And take my milk for gall, your murd’ring ministers,Wherever in your sightless substancesYou wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hellThat my keen knife see not the wound it makes,Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the darkTo cry, “Hold, hold!”
Enter Macbeth.
Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!Thy letters have transported me beyondThis ignorant present, and I feel nowThe future in the instant.
Macbeth
My dearest love,Duncan comes here tonight.
Lady Macbeth
And when goes hence?
Macbeth
Tomorrow, as he purposes.
Lady Macbeth
O, neverShall sun that morrow see!Your face, my thane, is as a book where menMay read strange matters. To beguile the time,Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,But be the serpent under’t. He that’s comingMust be provided for; and you shall putThis night’s great business into my dispatch;Which shall to all our nights and days to comeGive solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macbeth
We will speak further.
Lady Macbeth
Only look up clear;To alter favour ever is to fear.Leave all the rest to me.
Exeunt.