Get on your Night-Gowne, least
occasion
call vs,
And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
So poorely in your thoughts
Macb.
And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
So poorely in your thoughts
Macb.
shakespeare-macbeth
Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?
What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.
Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood
Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather
The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
Making the Greene one, Red.
Enter Lady.
Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame
To weare a Heart so white.
Knocke.
I heare a knocking at the South entry:
Retyre we to our Chamber:
A little Water cleares vs of this deed.
How easie is it then? your Constancie
Hath left you vnattended.
Knocke.
Hearke, more knocking.
Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs,
And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
So poorely in your thoughts
Macb. To know my deed,
Knocke.
'Twere best not know my selfe.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking:
I would thou could'st.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were
Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the
Key.
Knock.
Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd
himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue
Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.
Knock.
Knock, knock.
How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?
What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.
Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood
Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather
The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
Making the Greene one, Red.
Enter Lady.
Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame
To weare a Heart so white.
Knocke.
I heare a knocking at the South entry:
Retyre we to our Chamber:
A little Water cleares vs of this deed.
How easie is it then? your Constancie
Hath left you vnattended.
Knocke.
Hearke, more knocking.
Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs,
And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
So poorely in your thoughts
Macb. To know my deed,
Knocke.
'Twere best not know my selfe.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking:
I would thou could'st.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were
Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the
Key.
Knock.
Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd
himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue
Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.
Knock.
Knock, knock.