The Night ha's been vnruly:
Where we lay, our
Chimneys
were blowne downe,
And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre;
Strange Schreemes of Death,
And Prophecying, with Accents terrible,
Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents,
New hatch'd toth' wofull time.
shakespeare-macbeth
Good morrow, Noble Sir
Macb. Good morrow both
Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?
Macb. Not yet
Macd. He did command me to call timely on him,
I haue almost slipt the houre
Macb. Ile bring you to him
Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you:
But yet 'tis one
Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine:
This is the Doore
Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted
seruice.
Exit Macduffe.
Lenox. Goes the King hence to day?
Macb. He does: he did appoint so
Lenox.
The Night ha's been vnruly:
Where we lay, our
Chimneys
were blowne downe,
And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre;
Strange Schreemes of Death,
And Prophecying, with Accents terrible,
Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents,
New hatch'd toth' wofull time.
The obscure Bird clamor'd the liue-long Night.
Some say, the Earth was Feuorous,
And did shake
Macb. 'Twas a rough Night
Lenox. My young remembrance cannot paralell
A fellow to it.
Enter Macduff.
Macd. O horror, horror, horror,
Tongue nor Heart cannot conceiue, nor name thee
Macb. and Lenox. What's the matter?
Macd. Confusion now hath made his Master-peece:
Most sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope
The Lords anoynted Temple, and stole thence
The Life o'th' Building
Macb. What is't you say, the Life?
Lenox. Meane you his Maiestie?
Macd.
