Act II, Scene i

Court of Macbeth's castle Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him

BANQUO How goes the night, boy? FLEANCE The moon is down. I have not heard the clock. BANQUO And she goes down at twelve. FLEANCE I take't 'tis later, sir. BANQUO Hold, 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 in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose! Enter MACBETH and a servant with a torch Give me my sword. Who's there? MACBETH A friend.

"How goes the night" = what is the time

"There's husbandry in heaven. / Their candles are all out" = thrifty household management ("husbandry") is being practiced in the heavens; their (presumably the residents of heaven) lights are out (they are saving money by not wasting candle wax—candles, metaphorically, being the stars). The fact that the moon and stars are not visible (which, of course, means that the night is especially dark) would seem to say that Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's separate invocations "Stars, hide your fires" and "Come, thick night" have been heard and heeded. "Take thee that too" = perhaps a shield, a dagger, or some other soldier's object (to go along with the sword he has asked to Fleance to carry). The action of a father bestowing possessions on his son speaks symbolically of estates passing from one family generation to the next. "summons" = a summons (call to come) to sleep "I would not" = I do not wish to "Merciful powers, / Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature / Gives way to in repose" = Banquo resists going to sleep for fear of having bad dreams. The suggestion in this moment is that Banquo, like Macbeth, is prone to ambition—that he too wants to see his prophecy fulfilled—but that he has a finer sense of restraint and will try not to give in to temptation—in this case, the temptation to make come true the prophecy of his being the father of kings.

BANQUO What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed. He hath been in unusual pleasure and Sent forth great largess to your offices. This diamond he greets your wife withal, By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up In measureless content. MACBETH Being unprepar'd, Our will became the servant to defect, Which else should free have wrought. BANQUO All's well. I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters. To you they have show'd some truth. MACBETH I think not of them. Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, We would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time. BANQUO At your kind'st leisure. MACBETH If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, It shall make honor for you. BANQUO So I lose none In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchis'd and allegiance clear, I shall be counsell'd. MACBETH Good repose, the while. BANQUO Thanks, sir. The like to you. Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE MACBETH Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Exit servant

"a-bed" = gone to bed "largess" = shows of generosity "offices" = servants' quarters. Duncan's shows of generosity to Macbeth's servants and to Lady Macbeth indicate that he is delivering on his promise to continue to reward Macbeth beyond the bestowal of the new thaneship on him. "and shut up / In measureless content" = and Duncan is now wrapped up ("shut up") in total content. The image of the king as one who "sleeps well" (the phrase appears later) is a subtle foreshadowing.

"Being unprepar'd, / Our will became the servant to defect, / Which else should free have wrought" = because we were not yet ready (were "unprepar'd") to entertain guests, our desire to give liberal hospitality to the king could not be realized ("wrought")

"I think not of them" = Macbeth casually dismisses their encounter with the witches. But we can read this, with fair certainty, as a lie, as an example of Macbeth's presentation of a false face. "entreat an hour to serve" = invite an hour to spare some time for them

"At your kind'st leisure" = at any time that suits you "If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis" = This may mean if you will commit to ("cleave to") my party when it exists, or it may mean if you will follow my advice when the time comes. Macbeth seems to be deliberately ambiguous. Feeling, probably, that Banquo is more moral than himself (after all, Banquo's probably not preparing any royal assassinations) and may not be willing to share in any action that could be perceived as treasonous, Macbeth must approach his "friend" gingerly. Therefore, his words can mean that he wants Banquo to support his claim to the throne in the event of Duncan's natural death. Or he can be hinting at a bribe (i.e. for not revealing to anyone that Macbeth could well have been Duncan's assassin). "make honor for you" = be to your advantage "So I lose none / In seeking to augment it" = as long as I do not lose honor in an attempt to add to ("augment") it "keep / My bosom franchis'd and allegiance clear" = keep my heart (in the "bosom") free ("franchis'd") from guilt and my loyalty (to Duncan) unstained ("clear") "be counsell'd" = hear what you have to say "Good repose, the while" = meanwhile, sleep well

33 Is this a dagger which I see before me, 34 The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. 35 I have thee not and yet I see thee still. 36 Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible 37 To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but 38 A dagger of the mind, a false creation, 39 Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? 40 I see thee yet, in form as palpable 41 As this which now I draw. 42 Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going, 43 And such an instrument I was to use. 44 Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses, 45 Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still, 46 And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, 47 Which was not so before. There's no such thing! 48 It is the bloody business which informs 49 Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world 50 Nature seems dead and wicked dreams abuse 51 The curtain'd sleep. Witchcraft celebrates 52 Pale Hecate's off'rings, and wither'd murder, 53 Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, 54 Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, 55 With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design 56 Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, 57 Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear 58 Thy very stones prate of my whereabout 59 And take the present horror from the time, 60 Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat he lives. 61 Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. A bell rings 62 I go and it is done. The bell invites me. 63 Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell 64 That summons thee to heaven or to hell. Exit

On Macbeth's "dagger" speech (1) The material in this text box and in the one following is drawn from two documents, one dealing with the process of paraphrasing difficult texts, the other presenting critical commentary on the soliloquy. 33–34: Am I gazing on an assassin's knife, with its grip ready for me to take hold? 34: Here, I'll seize you! 35: I can't get you, but there you are, all the same. 36–37: You specter of death, can't you be touched as well as you can be seen? 37–39: Or are you no more than an imaginary dirk, a thing forged out of mere deceit in the furnace in my mind? 40–41: I can still see you, and you seem as concrete as this one that I now take from my sheath. 42–43: You lead me in the direction I was already heading, and I intended to use exactly the same kind of weapon. 44–45: Either my eyes have gone mad while my other senses continue to work like any sane man's senses, or my vision is the only sense out of the five that's working

correctly—for there you remain in front of me! 46–47: And now all along your fatal edge (i.e. to the hilt or "dudgeon") are drops of blood that weren't there a moment ago. 47: This is not real! 48–49: Just the thought of this terrifying task is toying with my right sight. 49–51: Here in the night (i.e. in the darkened hemisphere of the world) living things seem to be not just sleeping but dead, and nightmares tear through the curtains around

one's bed. 51–56: Even now, witches are enacting rituals of devotion to ghastly Hecate, queen of witches. And murder, in the form of a hideous, life-sapped figure, has been roused

by that deadly watcher in the night, the wolf, who eerily calls out the hour. My own steps now are like that wraith's or like Tarquin's (i.e. when this ancient Roman stole into the home of a friend to rape that man's wife).

56–60: Earth, you certain and solid thing, please don't hear my treading or sense where I'm heading. I worry that even your rocks will speak out and give away my location, ruining the dead-stillness that so becomes this moment.

60: All the time I spend here talking ominously, Duncan is still alive. 61: The breath that goes along with talking blows out the fires of action. 62–64: I'm on my way. The business is as good as finished. The tolling of a bell draws me on to you, Duncan. Sleep through it, dear king. This bell tolls your death and

draws you on to heaven or to hell.

For notes and commentary on Macbeth's "dagger" speech, see the two text boxes below.

On Macbeth's "dagger" speech (2) The two critical-response items below (a paragraph and an essay) refer to Macbeth's "dagger" speech. Study these texts not just for their content—that is, the ideas they advance about Macbeth's speech—but also for their form—that is, the style in which the content is expressed.

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? (Macbeth, II, i, 36–39)

Here in the first scene of the second act, Macbeth is heard speaking in soliloquy. Though it is fitting to say that his audience in this case is not so much himself as it is the floating dagger that his fevered imagination has made almost real. At this moment Macbeth has just said good night to Banquo and sent a servant to have Lady Macbeth "strike upon the bell" when his evening drink is ready. We know, however, that the bell she will ring is to be her signal that the way is clear for her husband to enter Duncan's chamber and carry out the fatal deed. And of course, it is his contemplation of the deed that prompts Macbeth to envision the dagger—which indeed he knows to be a vision but which he feels may be as "palpable" as the one he will soon draw from his sheath. Macbeth asks it if it can be touched as well as it can be seen or if it truly is just a product of his overheated imagination. His lines, and in general the soliloquy in which they appear, are notable for the degree to which they establish the power of Macbeth's imagination. And imagination is important. After all, it is imagination, in concert with ambition, that has led him this far and that will continue to lead him to regicide and ultimately to his own destruction. Aside from the galvanizing effects produced by the rich and disturbing imagery of the soliloquy generally, Shakespeare achieves the sense of Macbeth's powerful imagination by having his hero speak in apostrophe—addressing the airy nothing as though it were concrete and animate and could respond to his questions. Macbeth's "fatal vision," then, is given greater weight than it would have if he were merely to narrate his thought, as in, for example, I see a dagger and wonder if it would be as solid in my hand as it seems in my sight. The intensity of the lines and the suspense of the moment are increased, too, by the sound values of the words, for the diction is bluntly simple, and both the sharp and sibilant consonant sounds that dominate the lines suggest well the urgency and perversity of Macbeth's action.

Shakespeare's Use of Apostrophe in Macbeth's "Dagger" Speech A character's state of mind can be effectively conveyed through the author's rhetorical choices. This (perhaps too-obvious) truth is shown in Shakespeare's Macbeth in Act II, Scene i—Macbeth's "dagger" speech—in which Shakespeare uses potent diction along with death-washed imagery and allusions to depict the nightmare that swirls about Macbeth's mind. But more subtle and striking in this monologue is the playwright's selective use of apostrophe to suggest Macbeth's ambivalence—that is, both his intense desire and grave misgivings—over his plan to kill Duncan. Shakespeare's use of apostrophe, as in line 42, for example—"Thou marshalls't me the way that I was going," in which Macbeth addresses the illusive and elusive dagger—gives the impression that Macbeth feels he is being led, even as an unquestioning soldier might be led by his commander, into an action for which he is not obliged to accept responsibility. By this means, he seeks to evade guilt or self-recrimination, for it appears that by addressing a second entity, he may be able to draw into his lonely and terrifying sphere an accomplice—someone or something to share the burden of guilt. Additionally, apostrophe allows Macbeth to put himself at a distance from his own horrific deed—to see it at a remove, as something from which he can retreat, as opposed to something that inhabits him or that he is the owner of. By the simple linguistic gesture of apostrophe, Macbeth seems to blame not himself but the dagger and seems to deny any knowledge of wrongdoing. This impression is countered, however, by the later lines "There's no such thing: / It is the bloody business which informs / Thus to mine eyes." Here we see Macbeth's recognition that it is merely his existing decision to murder Duncan that has caused him to see the dagger, suggesting of course that he is torn between his guilt and his desire to become king. More importantly, though, these lines reveal that Macbeth's conscience, however he might wish to subdue it, is fully engaged, for he has definitely asserted ownership of the hallucination, and he has said, quite sanely, that it is only that: a hallucination. This is no specter that has come unbidden and forced itself on him. Rather, it is the product of his own mind, stirred by circumstances that he alone—regardless of his wife's urgings—has generated. The idea here is consistent with Shakespeare's general theme that though one may be tempted to act on evil impulses, the responsibility for evil lies with the actor of it. Shakespeare also plants apostrophe in Macbeth's language to suit with the motif established in earlier speeches both by Macbeth and Lady Macbeth—namely their calling on nature to conspire with them in keeping their intentions and actions hidden from the common view and even from themselves (e.g. Macbeth's "Stars, hide your fires" and "The eye wink at the hand"; Lady Macbeth's "Come, thick night . . . that my keen knife see not the wound it makes"). In lines 56 to 60, Macbeth pleads with nature in the form of the ground on which he stealthily "strides"—an action that is almost tantamount to comedy, for he seems, as it were, to be telling his secret to the whole world. He speaks almost as though he were the standard killer-on-compulsion, the criminal who deliberately leaves the clues that will lead to his discovery because he wishes to be discovered and punished: Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.

Indeed, Macbeth might as well be saying, Please, good stones, tell everyone where I've gone and what I've done. This passage—along with Macbeth's idea that if the "bloody business" can be conducted in total silence, it can be made to seem less horrific than it is—strongly reinforces our sense of him as the killer with a conscience. This is no remorseless, coolly calculating psychopath but a highly imaginative, deadly ambitious man with a "heat-oppressed brain" who knows he is about to commit the greatest crime a man can commit. An unconscious desire to be caught notwithstanding, Macbeth still has steeled his resolve to go on with the murder, and Shakespeare caps—or, as it turns out, almost caps—his assassin's impulse to act with a forcefully punctuating rhymed couplet: Whiles I threat, he lives. Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

With the self-mocking phrase "Whiles I threat," Macbeth chides himself for nattering idly to that which cannot hear him or take any part in an action that is his alone. He declares, appropriately to no one but himself, that mere talking comes dangerously close to cooling his ardor for the crown. And yet, for all that, Macbeth has not done with trying to dislocate himself from his own action. What might have been his battle cry (however whispered)—"Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives"—is followed by the ringing of his wife's signal bell, the sign that all is clear for him to enter Duncan's chamber. And again Macbeth speaks in apostrophe—this time to his victim and, ironically, with something like tenderness—in effect, once more drawing a second entity into the deed and drawing himself out of it:

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.

These lines end the scene with Macbeth's preferred sense that the bell—not he of the "palpable" dagger—is responsible for summoning Duncan inexorably to death.