Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;

But answer made it none: yet once, methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak:

But, even then, the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham. "Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty,

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

All. We do, my lord.

Ham. Arm'd, say you?

All. Arm'd, my lord.

Ham. From top to toe?

All. My lord, from head to foot.

Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more

In sorrow than in anger.

Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like,

Very like. Stay'd it long?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a

hundred.

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

Ham. His beard was grizzl'd? no?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham. I will watch to-night:

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor. I warrant it will.

Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;

1

And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue:
I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All. Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell. [Exeunt HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO.] My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play; would the night were come; Till then sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Exit.

Hamlet, Act I, Scene 2.

INTERVIEW BETWEEN MACBETH AND

LADY

MACBETH AFTER THE MUR

DER OF KING DUNCAN.

Macb. I have done the deed!-didst thou not hear a noise?

Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets

Lady M.

Donalbain.

Macb. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep,

And one cried, "Murther!" that they did wake each other;

I stood and heard them: but they did say their

prayers,

And address'd them again to sleep.

Lady M. There are two lodg'd together.

Mach. One cried, "God bless us !" and "Amen!" the other

As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say, amen,

When they did say, God bless us.

Lady M. Consider it not so deeply.

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen? I had most need of blessing, and amen

Stuck in my throat.

Lady M. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no

more!

Macbeth does murther 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, -

Lady M.

What do you mean?

Macb. Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the

house:

"Glamis hath murther'd sleep:" and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Lady M. 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,

Macb.

I'll go no more:

I am afraid to think what I have done;

Look on't again I dare not.

Lady M.

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.

Macb.

[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 hands? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnardine,

Making the green-one red.