Macbeth - Power and Corruption (Polanski's the Tragedy of Macbeth) Page #4

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... for thy undaunted mettle

should compose nothing but males.

How goes the night?

The moon is down.

I have not heard the clock.

- She goes down at 12.

- I take it 'tis later, sir.

Take my sword.

There's husbandry in heaven.

Their candles are all out.

Take thee that too.

A heavy summons lies like lead

upon me, and yet I would not sleep.

Merciful powers, restrain the thoughts

that nature gives way to in repose.

Who's there?

A friend.

What, sir, not yet at rest?

The king's abed.

He hath been in unusual pleasure...

...and sent great largess

to your offices.

Being unprepared, our will

became the servant to defect.

All's well.

I dreamt last night

of the three weird sisters.

- To you they have showed some truth.

- I think not of them.

Yet, when we can entreat

an hour to serve...

...we would spend it in words upon

that business if you'd grant the time.

At your kindest leisure.

It shall make honour for you.

So I lose none in seeking to

augment it. I shall be counselled.

Good repose the while.

Thanks, sir. The like to you.

Is this a dagger

which I see before me...

... the handle toward my hand?

Come...

...let me clutch thee.

I have thee not,

and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision...

...sensible to feeling as to sight?

Or art thou but a dagger

of the mind...

...a false creation, proceeding

from the heat-oppressed brain?

I see thee yet...

...in form as palpable as this

which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way

that I was going.

And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools

of the other senses...

...or else worth all the rest.

I see thee still!

And on thy blade and dudgeon,

gouts of blood...

...which was not so before.

There's no such thing.

It is the bloody business

which informs thus to mine eyes.

Now o'er the one half-world

nature seems dead...

... and withered murder,

alarmed by his sentinel, the wolf...

... whose howl's his watch.

Thus with his stealthy pace,

with Tarquin's ravishing strides...

... towards his design

moves like a ghost.

Thou sure and firm-set earth...

... hear not my steps,

which way they walk...

... for fear the very stones prate

of my whereabouts.

Hear it not, Duncan...

... for it is a knell

that summons thee to heaven...

... or to hell.

I'm afraid they have awaked,

and 'tis not done.

The attempt and not the deed

confounds us.

Hark!

Peace! It was the owl that shrieked...

... the fatal bellman, which gives

the sternest good night.

My husband?

I have done the deed.

Didst thou not hear a noise?

I heard the owl and the crickets.

- Did not you speak? Now.

- As I descended?

- Ay.

- Hark!

- Who lies in the second chamber?

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