Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend it.

Yet do I fear thy nature;
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The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. 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.

Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes

Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse,
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Macbeth
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here tonight.
Lady Macbeth
And when goes hence?
Macbeth
Tomorrow, as he purposes.

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time.

Lady Macbeth
O,
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Duncan
This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love.

Banquo
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath
Smells wooingly here.
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Macbeth
We will proceed no further in this business.
He hath honored 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.

We fail?
But screw your courage to the sticking place
And we’ll not fail.
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Lady Macbeth
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold.
What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
Hark!—Peace.
It was the owl that shrieked, 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 drugged their possets,
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  Knock within.
Macbeth
Whence is that knocking?
How is ’t with me when every noise appalls me?
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 incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
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Lennox
The night has been unruly. Where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i’ th’ air, strange screams of death,
And prophesying, with accents terrible,
Of dire combustion and confused events
New hatched to th’ woeful time. The obscure bird
Clamored the livelong night. Some say the Earth
Was feverous and did shake.
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Donalbain
What is amiss?
Macbeth
You are, and do not know ’t.
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopped; the very source of it is stopped.
Macduff
Your royal father’s murdered.

Th’ expedition of my violent love
Outrun the pauser, reason.

Malcolm
O,
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Naught’s had, all’s spent,
Where our desire is got without content.Isocolon & Dichotomy

Things without all remedy
Should be without regard. What’s done is done.

‘Tis safer to be that which we destroy
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.Antimetabole, Polyptoton & Alliteration
 Enter Macbeth.
How now,
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