“There’s daggers in men’s smiles”

Act 2, Sc 3 

 (7 actors) lines 56-112/138 (some cutting needed)


Lenox                    Good morrow, Noble Sir.


Macbeth                                                               Good morrow both.


Macduffe               Is the King stirring, worthy Thane ?


Macbeth                                                                                 Not yet.                              


Macduffe               He did command me to call timely on him :

                              I have almost slipt the houre.


Macbeth                                                                      Ile bring you to him.


Macduffe               I know this is a joyfull trouble to you,

                              But yet, 'tis one.


Macbeth                This is the Doore.


Macduffe                                                  Ile make so bold to call,

                              For 'tis my appointed service.                        [Exit Macduffe.]


Lenox                    Goes the King hence to-day ?                       


Macbeth                He does.                                                                                              


Lenox                    The Night ha's been unruly.


                              Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe,

                              And ( as they say ) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre :

                              The obscure Bird clamor'd the live-long Night.


                              Some say, the Earth was Fev’rous,                                                     

                              And did shake.


Macbeth                                              'Twas a rough Night.


                                          [Enter Macduffe.]  


Macduffe               O horror, horror, horror :  


Macbeth & Lenox What's the matter ?


Lenox                    Meane you his Majestie ?


Macduffe               Do not bid me speake :

                              See, and then speake your selves : awake, awake----                                     


                                                             [Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.]


                              Ring the Alarum Bell : Murther, and Treason,

                              Banquo, and Donalbaine : Malcolme awake,                                       

                              Shake off this Downey sleepe ( Deaths counterfeit )

                              And looke on Death it selfe : Malcolme, Banquo,

                              As from your Graves rise up, and walke like Spirits,

                              To countenance this horror.   Ring the Bell !


                                          [Bell rings.  Enter Lady Macbeth.]  


Lady                      What's the Businesse ?

                              That such a hideous Trumpet calls to parley

                              The sleepers of the House ?  speake, speake.


Macduffe               O gentle Lady,                                                                                      

                              'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake.


                                          [Enter Banquo.]


                              O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Master's murther'd.                         


Lady                      Woe, alas :

                              What, in our House ?


Banquo                  Too cruell, any where.


                              Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy selfe,

                              And say, it is not so.                                                                             


                                          [Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Rosse.]


Macbeth                Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance,

                              I had liv'd a blessed time : for from this instant,

                              There's nothing serious in Mortalitie :

                              All is but Toyes : Renowne and Grace is dead.


                                          [Enter Malcolme and Donalbaine.]


Donalbaine           What is amisse ?                                                                                 


Macbeth                                                You are, and do not know't :                              



Macduffe               Your Royall Father's murther'd.


Malcome                                                                         Oh !  by whom ?


Lenox                    Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't :

                              Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood,

                              So were their Daggers, which ( unwip'd ) we found

                              Upon their Pillowes : they star'd, and were distracted---


Macbeth                O, yet I do repent me of my furie,                                                     

                              That I did kill them.                                                                             


Macduffe               Wherefore did you so ?


Macbeth                Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,

                              Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment ?  No man.


                              Here lay Duncan,

                              His Silver skinne, lac'd with His Golden Blood----


                              There the Murtherers,

                              Their Daggers breech'd with gore.


                              Who could refraine, that had a Heart to love

                              And in that heart, Courage to make his love knowne ?


Lady                      Helpe me hence, hoa.


Macduffe               Looke to the Lady.

                                                                         [Donalbaine & Malcome speake apart.]


Malcome               What will you do ?

                              Let's not consort with them :

                              To shew an unfelt Sorrow, is an Office

                              Which the false man do's easie ;                    

                              Ile to England.  


Donalbaine                                        To Ireland, I----

                              Our separated fortune shall keepe us both the safer.


Malcome               This murtherous Shaft that's shot,

                              Hath not yet lighted : Therefore to Horse.       



Banquo                  Looke to the Lady : and then let us meet,

                              To question this most bloody piece of worke ;

                              In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence,

                              Against the undivulg'd pretence, I fight        

                              Of Treasonous Mallice.                                  


Macduffe                                                           And so do I.


All                          So all.


Macbeth                Let's briefely put on manly readinesse,

                              And meet i'th' Hall together.





All                                                                                 Well contented.