ACT III.
4. SCENE IV. The same. A Room of state in the Palace. A banquet
(continued)
LADY MACBETH.
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts,--
Impostors to true fear,--would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
You look but on a stool.
MACBETH.
Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?--
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.--
If charnel houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.
[Ghost disappears.]
LADY MACBETH.
What, quite unmann'd in folly?
MACBETH.
If I stand here, I saw him.
LADY MACBETH.
Fie, for shame!
MACBETH.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
Ere humane statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.
LADY MACBETH.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.
MACBETH.
I do forget:--
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down.--Give me some wine, fill full.--
I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss:
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.
LORDS.
Our duties, and the pledge.
[Ghost rises again.]
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