And the twin Dromio, all were taken up;
But, by and by, rude tishermen of Corinth
By force took Dromio, and my son from them,
And me they left with those of Epidamnum;
What then became of them, I cannot tell :
I, to this fortune that you see me in.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story right;
These two Antipholus's, these two so like,
And these two Dromio's, one in semblance,-
Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,
These are the parents to these children,
Which accidentally are met together.
Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first.

Ant. S. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse. Duke. Stay, stand apart! I know not which is which. [lord.

Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gracious Dro. E. And I with him.

Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior

Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.
Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to-day?
Ant. S. I, gentle mistress.

. Adr.

And are not you my husband? Ant. E. No, I say nay to that. Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she call me so; And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here, Did call me brother:-What I told you then, I hope, I shall have leisure to make good; If this be not a dream, I see, and hear.

Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me. Ant. S. I think it be, sir; I deny it not. Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me. Ang. I think I did, sir; I deny it not. Adr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail, By Dromio; but I think he brought it not. Dro. E. No, none by me.

Ant. S. This purse of ducats I receiv'd from you, And Dromio, my man, did bring them me : I see, we still did meet each other's man, And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, And thereupon these Errors are arose.

Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. Duke. It shall not need, thy father hath his life.

Cour. Sir, I must have that diamond from you. Ant. E. There, take it, and much thanks for my good cheer.

Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To go with us into the abbey here,

And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes:
And all that are assembled in this place,
That by this sympathized one day's error
Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company,
And we shall make full satisfaction.-
Twenty-five years have I but gone in travail
Of you, my sons; nor, till this present hour,
My heavy burdens are delivered :-
The duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me;
After so long grief, such nativity!
Duke. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.
[Exeunt Duke, Abbess, Egeon, Courtesan,
Merchant, Angelo, and Attendants.
Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from ship-
board?

Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd? [Centaur. Dro. S. Your goods, that lay at host, sir, in the Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master, Dromio: Come, go with us: we'll look to that anon: Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.

[Exeunt Antipholus S. and E., Adr. and Luc. Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's house, That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner; She now shall be my sister, not my wife. Dro. E. Methinks, you are my glass, and not my

brother.

Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion,

Cary'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;
And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels: But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.

Dun.

Dismay'd not this

Who comes here? Mal.

The worthy thane of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look,

That seems to speak things strange.

Rosse.
God save the king!
Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Rosse. From Fife, great king,

Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.

Norway himself, with terrible numbers,

Assisted by that most disloyal traitor

The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,

Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: And, to conclude,
The victory fell on us :---

Dun.

Rosse. That now

Great happiness!

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and moanch'd, and mounch'd: Give me, quoth J:

Aroint thee, witch! the ramp-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the Tiger :
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,

And, like a rat without a tail,

I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other;

And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know

I'the shipman's card.

I will drain him dry as hay:

Sleep shall, neither night nor day,

Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid :
Weary sev'n nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,

Wreck'd, as homeward he did come. [Drum within. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum;

Macbeth doth come.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about;

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine:
Peace-the charm's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores?-What are these? So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you anght That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

Mach.

Speak, if you can ;-What are you? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! [Cawdor!

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king

hereafter.

Things that do sound so fair?-1'the name of truth,
Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,

That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not:
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say, which grain will grow, and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail !

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!

[none;

1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis ! But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king, Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting?-Speak, I charge you. [Witches vanish.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them: Whither are they vanish'd? Macb. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal,

melted

As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid!
Bon. Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?
Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban.
You shall be king.
Mach. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban. To the self-same tune, and words. Who's
here ?

Enter Rosse and Angus.

Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy success: and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' light,

His wonders and his praises do contend,

Which should be thine, or his: Silene'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o'the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before Lim.

Ang.

We are sent, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.

Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition hail, most worthy thane ! For it is thine. Ban.

What, can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you In borrow'd robes? [dress me Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was Combin'd with Norway; or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage; or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not: But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd, Have overthrown him.

Macb. Glamis, the thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no less to them?

Ban.

That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.Cousins, a word, I pray you.

Macb.

Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.--
This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good: If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,
But what is not.

Ban.

To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macb. The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties and our duties

Dun.

Are to your throne and state, children, and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe toward your love and honour.
Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban.
There if I grow,

The harvest is your own.
Dun.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.-Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon

Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.

Dun.
My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. The prince of Cumberland!-That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, [Aside.
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires :
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be.
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant ;
And in his commendations I am fed ;

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him.
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's Castle.

Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a Letter. Lady M. They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves-air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood

With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn

The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king.-
Think upon what hath chane'd: and, at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
Our free bearts each to other.

Ban.

Very gladly. Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV. Fores. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and Attendants.

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?

Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
Implor'd your highness pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

Dun.
There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.-O worthiest cousin!

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow

king, who all-hailed me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis'd:-Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o'the milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way: Thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition; but without (highly,
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have great
Glamis,

That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round;
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.-What is your tidings?
Enter an Attendant.

Attend. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M.
Thou'rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is One of my fellows had the speed of him; [coming: Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message.

Lady M.
Give him tending,
He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,
[Exit Attendant.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, Hold!-Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Enter Macbeth.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

Macb.

My dearest love,

Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady M.

And when goes hence?

Macb. To-morrow, -as he purposes. Lady M.

Shall sun that morrow see!

O, never

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters :-To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent
flower,

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdoin.
Mach. We will speak further.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.

Only look up clear;

[Exeunt.

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house: For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,,
We rest your hermits.
Dun.
Where's the thane of Cawdor?
We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur, bath holp him
To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.
Lady M.

Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.

Dun.

Give me your hand:

Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess."

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The same. A Room in the Castle. Hautboys and Torches. Enter, and pass over the Stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with Dishes and Service. Then enter Macbeth.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere It were done quickly: If the assassination [well Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases, We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsmau and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off: And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other.-How now, what news? Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady M. He has almost supp'd; Why have you left Macb. Hath he ask'd for me! [the chamber! Lady M. Know you not, he has? Macb. We will proceed no further in this business : He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady M. Was the hope drunk, Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time, Such 1 account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour, As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem; Letting I dare not wait upon I would, Like the poor cat i'the adage?

Macb.

Pr'ythee, peace:

I dare do all that may become a man ; Who dares do more, is none.

If we should fail,———

Lady M. What beast was it then, That made you break this enterprise to me? And, to be more than what you were, you would When you durst do it, then you were a man ; Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place, Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me : I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you Have done to this. Macb. Lady M. But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep, (Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassel so convince, That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only: When in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie, as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell?'

Macb

We fail!

Bring forth men-children only! For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be received, When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers, That they have don't?

All's well.

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.
Macb.
I think not of them;
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
Would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.
Ban.
At your kind'st leisure.
Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent,-when 'tis,
It shall make honour for you.
Ban.

So I lose none,
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear,

I shall be counsel'd.
Macb.
Good repose, the while!
Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you!

[Exit.

SCENE II. The same.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold: [-Peace! What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:--Hark! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd their possets,

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.

Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho! Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, Confounds us :- Hark!-I laid their daggers ready, And 'tis not done :-the attempt, and not the deed,

He could not miss them. Had he not resembled

My father as he slept, I had don't.-My husband!

Enter Macbeth.

Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep;

ready,

She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[Exit Ser.

Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. [thee:--
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

I see thee yet, in form as palpable,

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade, aud dudgeon, gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[A Bell rings.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell, That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast;

Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house: Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why, wor

thy thane,

You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brainsickly of things:-Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.-
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: Go, carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.

Macb.

I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady M.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: The sleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt. [ Exit. Knocking within.
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
Whence is that knocking?
What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnardine,

Macb.

Making the green-one red.

Re-enter Lady Macbeth.