Enter BANQUO, and
FLEANCE, with a torch before him
How goes the night, boy?
The moon is down. I have not heard the clock.
And she goes down at twelve.
take ’t ’tis later, sir.
Hold, take my sword. There’s husbandry in heaven;
5Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers,
Restrain in me the cursèd thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose.
Enter MACBETH and a
SERVANT with a torch
me my sword. Who’s there?
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king’s a-bed.
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your offices.
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
15By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up
In measureless content.
Our will became the servant to defect,
Which else should free have wrought.