Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Macb. Give me your favour:—my dull brain was
wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are registered where every day I turn The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the King.—
[Aside to Banquo.
Think upon what hath chanced; and, at more time, The interim having weighed it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. Ban. Very gladly. Macb. Till then, enough.—Come, friends.
[March.—Exeunt, R.
Scene IV.—The Palace at Fores.—Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.
Enter King Duncan, Donalbain, Malcolm, Rosse, and two Chamberlains, L.
King. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet returned?
Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back; But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report, That very frankly he confessed his treasons; Implored your highness' pardon, and set forth A deep repentance: nothing in his life Became him, like the leaving it. He died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he owed, As 'twere a careless trifle.
King. There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.—
Enter Macduff, Macbeth, Banquo, and Lenox, L.
Oh, worthiest cousin,
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, That the proportion, both of thanks and payment, Might have been mine! only I've left to say, More is thy due than more than all can pay. Macb. 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; Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honour.
King. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing.—Noble Banquo, That hast no less deserved, nor must be known No less to have done so: let me enfold thee, And hold thee to my heart.
Ban. There, if I grow, The harvest is your own.
King. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.—Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you, whose places are the nearest, know, We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must Not, unaccompanied, invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers.—From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you.
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not used for you; I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So humbly take my leave. [Aside, and crossing, R.] The Prince of Cumberland !—
That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit, R. King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,
And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome; It is a peerless kinsman.
[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums —Exeunt, R.
Scene V.—Macbeth's Castle at Inverness. Enter Lady Macbeth, R., 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 farther, 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 ~~" and referred me to the coming on of time, with. Hail, k .jg that shall 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 promised !—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 wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Gla
mis,
That which cries, "Thus thou must do, if thou have it;" And that, which rather thou dost fear to do, Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crowned withal. *'
Enter Seyton, L.
What is your tidings?
Sey. The King comes here to-night.
V.]
Lady M. Thou'rt mad to say it! Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Would have informed for preparation.
Sei/. So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him; Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message.
Lady M. Give him tending—
He brings great news. [Exit Seyton, L.
The raven himself is hoarse, That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, all you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, urisex me here; And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; Stop up tL'' #cess and passage to remorse; That no comp'unctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose; nor keep pace between The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, 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!"-.-
Enter Macbeth, L.
Great Glarnis! worthy Cawdor! Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! Thy letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant.
Macb. My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night.
Lady M. And when goes hence?
Macb, To-morrow—as he purposes.
Lady M. Oh, never Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters.—To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye.
Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it. He that's coming Must be provided for: and you shall put This night's great business into my dispatch; Which shall to all our days and nights to come, Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M. Only look up clear; To alter favour ever is to fear: Leave all the rest to me. . [Exeunt, R.
Scene VI.—The Gates of Inverness Castle.—Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.
Enter King Duncan, Banquo, Malcolm, Donat.bain, Macdupp, Lenox, Rosse, and Attendants, R.
King. 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, By his loved mansionry, that the Heaven's breath Smells wooingly here; no jutty frieze, Buttress, or coigne† of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle. Where they most breed and haunt,—I have observed The air is delicate.
Enter Lady Macbeth, Seyton, and two Ladies, from the Castle Gates.
King. See, see! our honoured hostess! The love that follows us sometimes is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid Heaven 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, Were poor and single business, to contend Against those honours, deep and broad, wherewith Your majesty loads our house: For those of old, And the late dignities heaped up to them, We rest your hermits.
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