Original
Modern English
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quench’d them hath given me fire. Hark! Peace! 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.
What made them drunk has made me fearless; What knocked them out has lit a fire in me. Listen! Quiet! It was the owl that screamed, the fatal bellman, Who gives the harshest good-night. He’s doing it: The doors are open; and the drunk servants Mock their duties with snores: I have drugged their drinks, So that death and nature fight over them, Whether they live or die.
[Within] Who’s there? what, ho!
[Within] Who’s there? What is it?
Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, And ’tis not done. The attempt and not the deed Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss ’em. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done’t.
Oh no, I’m worried they’ve woken up, And it’s not finished. The attempt, not the action, Is what confuses us. Listen! I had their daggers ready; He couldn’t have missed them. If he hadn’t looked like My father while he was sleeping, I would have done it.
My husband!
My husband!
I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?
I’ve done it. Didn’t you hear something?
I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak?
I heard the owl scream and the crickets chirping. Didn’t you say anything?
When?
When?
Now.
Just now.
As I descended?
As I was coming down?
Ay.
Yes.
Hark! Who lies i’ the second chamber?
Listen! Who’s in the second room?
Donalbain.
Donalbain.
This is a sorry sight.
This is a terrible sight.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
That’s a silly thought, saying it’s a terrible sight.
There’s one did laugh in’s sleep, and one cried ’Murder!’ That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: But they did say their prayers, and address’d them Again to sleep.
One of them laughed in his sleep, and the other shouted "Murder!" That’s what woke them up: I stood there and listened: But they said their prayers, then went back To sleep.
There are two lodged together.
They’re both in the same room together.
One cried ’God bless us!’ and ’Amen’ the other; As they had seen me with these hangman’s hands. Listening their fear, I could not say ’Amen,’ When they did say ’God bless us!’
One of them said "God bless us!" and the other said "Amen"; As if they had seen me with these murderer’s hands. Hearing their fear, I couldn’t say "Amen," When they said "God bless us!"
Consider it not so deeply.
Don’t think about it so much.
But wherefore could not I pronounce ’Amen’? I had most need of blessing, and ’Amen’ Stuck in my throat.
But why couldn’t I say "Amen"? I needed a blessing the most, and yet "Amen" Got stuck in my throat.
These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
We must not think about these actions In that way; it will drive us mad.
Methought I heard a voice cry ’Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep’, the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care, 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,--
I thought I heard a voice say, "Sleep no more! Macbeth murders sleep," the innocent sleep, Sleep that mends the tired mind, The rest from each day’s struggles, the bath for sore labor, The healing for hurting minds, nature’s second course, The main food in life’s feast,--
What do you mean?
What do you mean?
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.’
Still, it cried "Sleep no more!" all through the house: "Glamis has murdered sleep, and so Cawdor Will sleep no more; Macbeth will sleep no more."
Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy 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.
Who was it that cried out like that? Why, noble thane, You’re weakening yourself by thinking So crazily about this. Go get some water, And wash this filthy evidence from your hand. Why did you bring the daggers from the place? They should stay there: go take them back, and smear The sleepy guards with blood.
I’ll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on’t again I dare not.
I won’t go back: I’m too scared to think about what I’ve done; I can’t look at it again.
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.
You’re weak-willed! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are like pictures: it’s the childish eye That’s afraid of a painted devil. If he bleeds, I’ll cover the guards’ faces with blood; It must look like their guilt.
Whence is that knocking? How is’t with me, when every noise appals 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 in incarnadine, Making the green one red.
Where is that knocking coming from? What’s happening to me, when every sound scares me? What hands are these? Ha! they’re taking my sight. Will all the ocean of Neptune wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, my hand would rather Turn the vast seas red, Making the green water turn red.
My hands are of your colour; but I shame To wear a heart so white.
My hands are the same color as yours; but I’m too ashamed To have such a cowardly heart.
I hear a knocking At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended.
I hear knocking At the south door: let’s retreat to our room; A little water will wash away this crime: How easy it is, then! Your determination Has left you alone.
Hark! more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.
Listen! More knocking. Put on your nightgown, in case someone calls us, And shows us to be watching. Don’t get lost In your thoughts so much.
To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself.
To know what I’ve done, it’s better not to know who I am.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
Wake Duncan with your knocking! I wish you could!