Macbeth Page #4

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in form as palpable

as this which now I draw.

Whiles I threat, he lives.

Words to the heat of deeds

too cold breath gives.

(Whispers in Gaelic)

The spring,

the head,

the fountain of your blood is stopped.

The very source of it is stopped.

Here lies Duncan,

his silver skin laced

with his golden blood.

There the murderers,

steeped in the colours of their trade.

Had I but died

an hour before this chance,

I had lived a blessed time.

But from this instant

there's nothing serious in mortality.

All is but toys.

Renown and grace is dead.

The wine of life is drawn

and the mere lees is left

this vault to brag of.

Live you?

Or are you aught

that man may question?

I have done the deed.

Why did you bring these daggers

from the place?

They must lie there.

What hands are here?

(Laughs)

(Macbeth) '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.

My hands are of your colour,

but I shame to wear a heart so white.

A little water clears us of this deed.

How easy is it then.

To know my deed

'twere best not know myself.

Good Macduff.

Good morrow, noble sir.

Good morrow, both.

Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?

- The King, is he stirring?

- Not yet.

He did command me

to call timely on him.

I have almost slipped the hour.

I'll bring you to him.

I'll make so bold to call.

- Goes the King hence today?

- He does; he did appoint so.

(Lennox) The night has been unruly.

Where we lay,

our temples were blown down

and, as they say,

lamentings heard in the air,

strange screams of death.

'Twas a rough night.

(Sharp intake of breath)

Confusion now

hath made his masterpiece.

Most sacrilegious murder

hath broke open

the Lord's anointed temple

and stole thence

the life of the building.

The life?

(Lennox) Mean you His Majesty?

(Macduff) Bid me not speak. You see.

Speak yourselves.

Awake!

Awake!

Ring the alarum bells!

Malcolm!

Malcolm!

Banquo!

Ring the alarum bells.

Banquo!

Shake off your downy sleep, man.

Death's counterfeit.

You come and look on death itself.

Huh?

Murder!

Treason!

(Lady Macbeth) What's the business?

Our royal master, he's murdered.

(Lady Macbeth) Murdered?

(Macduff) Murdered!

Those of his chamber,

their hands were all badged with blood.

Wherefore did you so?

Hm?

Who could refrain

that had a heart to love

and in that heart

courage to make love known?

(Bells ring)

How it does grieve Macbeth.

Did he not straight, in pious rage,

the two delinquents tear

that were the slaves of drink?

Was this not nobly done?

Ay.

'Twould have angered any heart alive

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