Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,

Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd. Rosse. And Duncan's horses 33, (a thing most strange and certain,)

Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind.

Old M.

'Tis said, they eat each other. Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine

Rosse. Is't known, who did this more than bloody

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,

Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse.

'Gainst nature still:

Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up

Thine own life's means !-Then, 'tis most like,
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone, To be invested.

Rosse.

Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colmes-kill;

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,

And guardian of their bones.

Rosse.

Will

you to Scone?

Well, I will thither.

Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Rosse.

Macd. Well, may you see things well done there;

-adieu!

Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

Rosse. Father, farewell.

Old M. God's benison go with you; and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Forcs. A Room in the Palace.

Enter BANQUO.

Ban. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,

As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said,

It should not stand in thy posterity;

But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them,
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,

And set me up in hope? But, hush; no more.

Senet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as King; Lady MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, RossE, Lords, Ladies and Attendants.

Macb. Here's our chief guest.

Lady M.

If he had been forgotten,

It had been as a gap in our great feast,

And all-thing unbecoming.

Macb. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir,

And I'll request your presence.

Ban.

Let your highness

Command upon me; to the which, my duties

Are with a most indissoluble tie
For ever knit.

Macb. Ride you this afternoon?

Ban.

Ay, my good lord. Macb. We should have else desir'd your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,) In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride?

Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time "Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night,

For a dark hour, or twain.

Macb.

Ban. My lord, I will not.

Fail not our feast.

Macb. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd In England, and in Ireland; not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: But of that to-morrow; When, therewithal, we shall have cause of state, Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: Adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? Ban. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon

us.

Macb. I wish your horses swift, and sure of foot; And so I do commend you to their backs.

Farewell.

Let every man be master of his time

[Exit Banquo.

Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself

Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you. [Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, Ladies, &c.

Sirrah, a word: Attend those men our pleasure?
Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
Macb. Bring them before us.-[Exit Atten.] To
be thus, is nothing;

But to be safely thus :-Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature

Reigns that, which would be fear'd: 'Tis much he

dares;

And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,

He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none, but he,
Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is said,

Mark Antony's was by Cæsar 34. He chid the sisters,
When first they put the name of King upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown,
And put a barren scepter in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If it be so,
For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,

To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!