Macbeth. William Shakespeare. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: William Shakespeare
Издательство: Public Domain
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      One of my fellows had the speed of him,

      Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

      Than would make up his message.

      Lady Macbeth. Give him tending; 385

      He brings great news.

      [Exit Messenger]

      The raven himself is hoarse

      That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan

      Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 390

      That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,

      And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full

      Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;

      Stop up the access and passage to remorse,

      That no compunctious visitings of nature 395

      Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between

      The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,

      And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,

      Wherever in your sightless substances

      You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, 400

      And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,

      That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,

      Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,

      To cry 'Hold, hold!'

      [Enter MACBETH] 405

      Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

      Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!

      Thy letters have transported me beyond

      This ignorant present, and I feel now

      The future in the instant. 410

      Macbeth. My dearest love,

      Duncan comes here to-night.

      Lady Macbeth. And when goes hence?

      Macbeth. To-morrow, as he purposes.

      Lady Macbeth. O, never 415

      Shall sun that morrow see!

      Your face, my thane, is as a book where men

      May read strange matters. To beguile the time,

      Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,

      Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, 420

      But be the serpent under't. He that's coming

      Must be provided for: and you shall put

      This night's great business into my dispatch;

      Which shall to all our nights and days to come

      Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. 425

      Macbeth. We will speak further.

      Lady Macbeth. Only look up clear;

      To alter favour ever is to fear:

      Leave all the rest to me.

      [Exeunt]

      Act I, Scene 6

      Before Macbeth’s castle.

      [Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants]

      Duncan. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air

      Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

      Unto our gentle senses. 435

      Banquo. This guest of summer,

      The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,

      By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath

      Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,

      Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird 440

      Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:

      Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,

      The air is delicate.

      [Enter LADY MACBETH]

      Duncan. See, see, our honour'd hostess! 445

      The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,

      Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you

      How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains,

      And thank us for your trouble.

      Lady Macbeth. All our service 450

      In every point twice done and then done double

      Were poor and single business to contend

      Against those honours deep and broad wherewith

      Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,

      And the late dignities heap'd up to them, 455

      We rest your hermits.

      Duncan. Where's the thane of Cawdor?

      We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose

      To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

      And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him 460

      To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,

      We are your guest to-night.

      Lady Macbeth. Your servants ever

      Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt,

      To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, 465

      Still to return your own.

      Duncan. Give me your hand;

      Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,

      And shall continue our graces towards him.

      By your leave, hostess. 470

      [Exeunt]

      Act I, 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 475

      Could trammel up the consequence, and catch

      With