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I see thee yet, as palpable in make, As that which from my pocket now I take. Thou point'st the way I purpos'd to proceed, And such a thing I was to use indeed. Mine eyes are t'other senses dupes I swear, Or else worth all the rest-still art thou there; And on thy blade and handle drops of gore, A circumstance which was not so before. 'Tis all my eye, (14) it is the cut-throat job, I am about, that doth my vision fob. (15)

SONG.

Tune-O what pleasure will abound.

All are silent-fast asleep,
While on tiptoe now I creep-

Earth be very stout,

- Hide my whereabout, (16)

While on tiptoe now I

creep.

(Rell rings.

Hark! the signal-there's the bell;

Hear't not Duncan-'tis thy knell;

When I'm nigh to you,

Then-good bye to you;

Hear't not Duncan, 'tis thy kuell.

(Exit.

Enter Lady Macbeth (tipsey)

What's stupified my guests hath made me stout; What's made them sleep makes me to stir about: (reeling.

Now for it-hark!—he's open'd wide the doors, The fuddled grooms assist him with their snores.

Enter Macbeth, bloody.

Macbeth.

Who's there?-what ho!

Lady Macbeth.

I hope he may succeed.

Th' attempt is more terrific than the deed;

Had I not thought him, while asleep. I watch'd

him,

The picture of my dad, I'd have dispatch'd him.

Art there?

Macbeth.

I've done the deed.—

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Lady Macbeth.

Then thou'st done right.

Macbeth.

Alack-a-day! this is a sorry sight.

(Looks on his hands.

Lady Macbeth.

A foolish fellow to imagine so.

Macbeth.

One titter'd in his sleep and one eried oh!
They 'woke-they pray'd-they went to sleep
again-

One said God bless us!-t'other said amen,
As if they'ad seen me in this ugly trim,
List'ning their fear and quaking ev'ry limb;
I would have join'd them in the pious note, it
But when they pray'd-amen stuck in

my throat.

Lady Macbeth.

And what of that?

Macbeth.

Why stuck it in the way?

I had more need of blessing sure than they,
And a-a-a-is all that I cou'd say. (17)

Lady Macbeth.

If the affair you take so much to heart,
I fear that you may act a madman's part.

Macbeth.

Methought that "sleep no more," a voice express'd,

"Macbeth doth murder sleep-innocent rest, (18) The comfort of the weary-sweet repose, The hush-a-bye (19) of all our cares and woes” 10

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;

"Glamis hath banish'd sleep from every bed,

And therefore he-Macbeth shall sleep no more.

Lady Macbeth.

And pray who was it made this hideous roar?
Why, how you châtter at an idle rate;
I cannot bear such incoherent prate.
Go, wash your nasty dirty hands my dear;
Why did you bring the bloody razor here?
Leave it, I beg of you, in the next room,

And smear with blood, while fast asleep, each

groom.

Macbeth.

No, hang me if I do! that place I'll shun;
I am afraid to think on what I've done;
And if thereon again I were to look-
Oh dear! I'm very sure that I should puke.

Lady Macbeth.

Poor timid soul! give me the razor then;
Children alone are frighten'd at dead men;
The job I'll finish, with the blood that's spilt;
I'll daub the grooms, and it shall seem their guilt.

(Ex.

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