Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the Key.
Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.
Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name? Faith here's an Equiuocator, that could sweare in both the Scales against eyther Scale, who committed Treason enough for Gods sake, yet could not equiuocate to Heauen: oh come in, Equiuocator.
Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there? 'Faith here's an English Taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French Hose: Come in Taylor, here you may rost your Goose. Knock.
Knock, Knock. Neuer at quiet: What are you? but this place is too cold for Hell. Ile Deuill-Porter it no further: I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that goe the Primrose way to th' euerlasting Bonfire.
Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter. Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to Bed, That you doe lye so late? Port. Faith Sir, we were carowsing till the second Cock: And Drinke, Sir, is a great prouoker of three things
Macd. What three things does Drinke especially prouoke? Port. Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleepe, and Vrine. Lecherie, Sir, it prouokes, and vnprouokes: it prouokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much Drinke may be said to be an Equiuocator with Lecherie: it makes him, and it marres him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it perswades him, and dis-heartens him; makes him stand too, and not stand too: in conclusion, equiuocates him in a sleepe, and giuing him the Lye, leaues him
Macd. I beleeue, Drinke gaue thee the Lye last Night
Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me: but I requited him for his Lye, and (I thinke) being too strong for him, though he tooke vp my Legges sometime, yet I made a Shift to cast him. Enter Macbeth.
Macd. Is thy Master stirring? Our knocking ha's awak'd him: here he comes
Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir
Macb. Good morrow both
Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane? Macb. Not yet
Macd. He did command me to call timely on him, I haue almost slipt the houre
Macb. Ile bring you to him
Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you: But yet 'tis one
Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine: This is the Doore
Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted seruice.
Lenox. Goes the King hence to day? Macb. He does: he did appoint so
Lenox. The Night ha's been vnruly: Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe, And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre; Strange Schreemes of Death, And Prophecying, with Accents terrible, Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents, New hatch'd toth' wofull time. The obscure Bird clamor'd the liue-long Night. Some say, the Earth was Feuorous, And did shake
Macb. 'Twas a rough Night
Lenox. My young remembrance cannot paralell A fellow to it. Enter Macduff.
Macd. O horror, horror, horror, Tongue nor Heart cannot conceiue, nor name thee
Macb. and Lenox. What's the matter? Macd. Confusion now hath made his Master-peece: Most sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope The Lords anoynted Temple, and stole thence The Life o'th' Building