Thus do go about, about; Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores?What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire ; That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth, By each at once her choppy finger laying Mach. Speak, if you can ;-What are you? 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear Things, that do sound so fair?-I'the name of truth, By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis; you. Enter Rosse and ANGUS, Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy success: and when he reads In viewing o'er the rest o'the self-same day, Ang. We are sent, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks ; To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee. Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Caw⚫ dor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! Ban. What, can the devil speak true? In borrow'd robes? Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; Mach. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: Ban. That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you into the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us 2 B This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good :-If ill, My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. Dun. There's no art, To find the mind's construction in the face: Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS. That the proportion both of thanks and payment Mach. The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; Mach. If chance will have me king, why, Which do but what they should, by doing every Ban. New honours come upon him thing Safe toward your love and honour. Dun. Welcome hither: Like our strange garments; cleave not to their I have begun to plant thee, and will labour mould, But with the aid of use. Mach. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Mach. Give me your favour:-my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king. Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Ban. Very gladly. Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends. To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo, Thou hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known No less to have done; so let me infold thee, And hold thee to my heart. Ban. There if I grow, The harvest is your own. Dun. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, Mach. The rest is labour, which is not us'd Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, SCENE V.-Inverness. A room in Macbeth's Stop up the access and passage to remorse; castle. Enter Lady MACBETH, reading a letter. Lady M. They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves-air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promis'd:-Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o'the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way: Thou would'st be great; Art not without ambition; but without The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly, That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, That, which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it ; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Enter an Attendant. Atten. The king comes here to-night. Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Atten. So please you, it is true; our thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him; That no compunctious visitings of nature Wherever in your sightless substances And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold!-Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! Enter MACBETH. Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter ! Mach. My dearest love, Lady M. And when goes hence? Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men But be the serpent under it. He that's coming [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-The same. Before the castle. Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants. Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. Ban. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, Lady M. Give him tending, Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, the air Enter Lady MACBETH. Dun. See, see! our honour'd hostess! The love, that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. Lady M. All our service In every point twice done, and then done double, Dun. Where's the thane of Cawdor? And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest to-night. Lady M. Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, Still to return your own. Dun. Give me your hand: Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly, [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-The same. A room in the castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service. Then enter MACBETH. Mach. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: If the assassination turn To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale Mach. Pr'ythee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man'; Lady M. What beast was't then, ness now Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know Mach. If we should fail,- But screw your courage to the sticking-place, Mach. Bring forth men-children only! When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers, Lady M. Who dares receive it other, Mach. I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-The same. Court within the castle. Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a Servant with a torch before them. Ban. How goes the night, boy? Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the Ban. And she goes down at twelve. She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.— Ban. Hold, take my sword:-There's hus- I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. bandry in heaven, Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. Mach. A friend. Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's He hath been in unusual pleasure, and Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; It is the bloody business, which informs By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse In measureless content. Mach. Being unprepar'd, Our will became the servant to defect; Which else should free have wrought. Ban. All's well. The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.-Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for The very stones prate of my where-about, Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. |