After murdering the king, Macbeth (Sir Patrick Stewart) tells Lady Macbeth (Kate Fleetwood) that he heard a voice crying, “Sleep no more!”
After murdering the king, Macbeth (Sir Patrick Stewart) tells Lady Macbeth (Kate Fleetwood) that he heard a voice crying, “Sleep no more!”
[footsteps approaching] - My husband!
- --I've done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?
- I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak?
- --When?
- Now.
- --As I descended?
[owl screeches] - --Who lies i' th' second chamber?
- Donalbain.
- --This is a sorry sight.
- A foolish thought, to say a sorry 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 addressed them Again to sleep.
- There are two lodged together.
- --One cried, 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other, As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
List'ning their fear I could not say 'Amen,' When they did say 'God bless us!'
- Consider it not so deeply.
- --But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen?'
I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat.
- These deeds must not be thought After these ways.
So, it will make us mad.
[distant noise] - --Methought I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep,' the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, - What do you mean?
- --Still it cried, 'Sleep no more!' to all the house.
'Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more.
Macbeth shall 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.
- --I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on 't again I dare not.
- 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.