Act 1 - Scene 7
Macbeth's castle.
Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the
stage. Then enter MACBETH MACBETH
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: if the assassination Could trammel
up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the
end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases We
still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the
inventor: this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's
here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his
host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath
borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels,
trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding
the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed
in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting
ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.
Enter LADY MACBETH
How now! what news? LADY MACBETH
He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? MACBETH
Hath he ask'd for me? LADY MACBETH
Know you not he has? MACBETH
We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions
from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. LADY MACBETH
Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so
green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the
same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st
the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the
poor cat i' the adage? MACBETH
Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none.
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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