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.
(Re-enter Lady Macbeth.)
Lady Macbeth.—My hands are of your color; but I shame To wear a heart so white. (Knocking.) 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. (Knocking.) 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.
Macbeth.—To know my deed, 't were best not know myself. (Knocking.) Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst.
THE TWA CORBIES.
As I was walking all alane, I heard two corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, "Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"
"In behint yon auld fail dyke, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And nae body kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may make our dinner sweet.
"Ye 'll sit on his white hause bane, And I'll pike out his bonny blue een: Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair, We 'll theek our nest when it grows bare.