Macbeth - Power and Corruption (Polanski's the Tragedy of Macbeth) Page #2

---

...Duncan comes here tonight.

- And when goes hence?

- Tomorrow, as he purposes.

Never shall sun that morrow see.

Your face is as a book

where men may read strange matters.

He that's coming must be provided for.

You shall put this night's

business into my dispatch.

We will speak further.

Look like the innocent flower,

but be the serpent under it.

Leave all the rest to me.

The raven croaks the fatal entrance

of Duncan under my battlements.

Come, you spirits that tend on

mortal thoughts. Unsex me here.

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 purpose.

This castle hath a pleasant seat.

The air nimbly and sweetly recommends

itself unto our gentle senses.

Come, thick night, pall thee

in the dunnest smoke of hell...

... that my keen knife

see not the wound it makes...

... nor heaven peep through

the dark to cry, "Hold!"

Fair and noble hostess,

we are your guest tonight.

Your servant ever.

Give me your hand.

Conduct me to mine host.

We love him highly and shall

continue our graces towards him.

If it were done when 'tis done,

then 'twere well it were done quickly.

If the assassination 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.

Health to this household!

But in these cases,

we still have judgement here...

... that we but teach

bloody instructions...

... which, being taught,

return to plague the inventor.

He's here in double trust.

First, as I am his kinsman

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 newborn babe striding

the blast, or heaven's cherubin...

... horsed 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 side.

- Why have you left the chamber?

- Hath he asked for me?

Know you not he has?

We will proceed no further

in this business.

He hath honoured me of late.

And I have bought golden opinions

from all sorts of people...

...which would be worn in their newest

gloss, not cast aside so soon.

Was the hope drunk,

wherein you dressed 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 I account thy love.

Art thou afeard to be the same

in act as in desire?

Prithee, peace.

Wouldst thou live a coward, letting

"I dare not" wait upon "I would"?

Like the poor cat in the adage?

I dare do all that may become a man.

Who dares do more is none.

What beast was it then, that made you

break this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it,

then you were a man.

To be more than what you were,

you would be so much more the man.

Hail, Thane of Cawdor.

If we should fail?

We fail.

But screw your courage to

the sticking-place and we'll not fail.

Duncan's two chamberlains

will I with wine so convince...

...that memory, the warder

of the brain, shall be a fume.

I'll drug their possets.

When in swinish sleep their drenched

natures lie as in a death...

...what cannot you and I perform

upon the unguarded Duncan?

Bring forth men-children only...

... for thy undaunted mettle

should compose nothing but males.

How goes the night?

The moon is down.

I have not heard the clock.

- She goes down at 12.

- I take it 'tis later, sir.

Take my sword.

There's husbandry in heaven.

Their 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 the thoughts

that nature gives way to in repose.

Who's there?

A friend.

What, sir, not yet at rest?

The king's abed.

He hath been in unusual pleasure...

...and sent great largess

to your offices.

Being unprepared, our will

became the servant to defect.

All's well.

I dreamt last night

of the three weird sisters.

- To you they have showed some truth.

- I think not of them.

Yet, when we can entreat

an hour to serve...

...we would spend it in words upon

that business if you'd grant the time.

At your kindest leisure.

It shall make honour for you.

So I lose none in seeking to

augment it. I shall be counselled.

Good repose the while.

Thanks, sir. The like to you.

Is this a dagger

which I see before me...

... the handle toward my hand?

Come...

...let me clutch thee.

I have thee not,

and yet I see thee still.

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

of the other senses...

...or else worth all the rest.

I see thee still!

And on thy blade and 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 withered murder,

alarmed 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 the very stones prate

of my whereabouts.

Hear it not, Duncan...

... for it is a knell

that summons thee to heaven...

... or to hell.

I'm afraid they have awaked,

and 'tis not done.

The attempt and not the deed

confounds us.

Hark!

Peace! It was the owl that shrieked...

... the fatal bellman, which gives

the sternest good night.

My husband?

I have done the deed.

Didst thou not hear a noise?

I heard the owl and the crickets.

- Did not you speak? Now.

- As I descended?

- Ay.

- Hark!

- Who lies in the second chamber?

- Donalbain.

This is a sorry sight.

A foolish thought,

to say a sorry sight.

Methought I heard a voice cry,

"Sleep no more.

Macbeth does murder sleep."

The innocent sleep, sleep that

knits up the ravelled sleave of care.

The death of each day's life, sore

labour's bath, balm of hurt minds.

Nature's second course,

chief nourisher in life's feast.

Still it cried to all the house,

"Glamis hath murdered sleep...

...and Cawdor shall sleep no more.

Macbeth shall sleep no more!"

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes