Old Man.
Threescore and ten I can remember well;
Within the volume of which time, I've seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.

Rosse.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest, and the heav'ns, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten this bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day;
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
Is't the night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness doth the earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?

Old M.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawkt at, and kill'd.

Rosse.
And Duncan's horses (a thing most strange and certain!)
Beauteous and swift, the minions of the race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke the stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with man.

Old M.
'Tis said, they eat each other,

Rosse.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look'd upon't. [Exit Old Man. Enter Macduff.
Here comes the good Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?

Macd.
Why, see you not?

Rosse.
Is't knows who did this more than bloody deed?

Macd.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Rosse.
Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?

Macd.
They were suborn'd;
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts on them,
Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse.
'Gainst nature still;
Thriftless ambition! that will raven 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 Colmkill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.

Rosse.
Will you go to Scone?

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

Rosse.
Well, I will thither.

Macd.
Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu;
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! [Exeunt. Scene SCENE, an Apartment in the Palace. Enter Banquo.

Ban.
Thou hast it now; King, Cawdor, Glamis, all
The weyward 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.

Trumptes sound.* ^note Enter Macbeth as King, Lenox, Rosse, Lords and Attendants.

Macb.
Here's our chief guest.
To night we hold a solemn supper, sir,
And I'll request your presence.

Ban.
Lay your highness'
Command upon me; to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tye,
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 it 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.
Fail not our feast.

Ben.
My lord, I will not.

Macb.
Hie, to horse; adieu,
'Till your 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.
Farewel. [Exit Banquo.
Let ev'ry man be master of his time,
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
'Till supper time alone; till then, Heav'n be with you. [Exeunt Lords. Manent Macbeth and a Servent.
Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men
Our pleasure?

Ser.
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

Macb.
Bring them before us—To be thus, is nothing; [Exit Servant.
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,
Anthony's was by Cæsar. He chid the sisters,
When first they put the name of king on 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 'tis so,
For Banquo's issue have I filed 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
Giv'n to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings—the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come fate into the list,* ^note
And champion me to the utterance!—Who's there? Enter Servant, and two Murderers.
Go to the door, and stay there till we call. [Exit Servant.
Was it not yesterday that we spoke together?

Mur.
It was so, please your highness.

Macb.
Well then, now
You have consider'd of my speeches;

Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospel'd,
To pray for this good Banquo and his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours, for ever?

1 Mur.
We are men, my liege.

Macb.
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men,
As hounds and grey-hounds, mungrels, spaniels, curs,
Showghes, water-rugs, and demy-wolves, are clep'd
All by the name of dogs; the valu'd file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter; every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.

1 Mur.
I am one,
So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance.
To mend it, or be rid on't.

Macb.
Both of you
Know Banquo was your enemy.

1 Mur.
True, my lord.* ^note

Macb.
So is he mine: and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being, thrusts
Against my near'st of life; and though I could
With bare fac'd power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it; yet I must not,
For sundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur.
We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.

1 Mur.
Though our lives...

Macb.
Your spirits shine through you. In this hour, at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
(For't must be done to night,
And something from the palace:) and with him,
(To leave no rubs nor botches in the work)
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Must embrace the fate,
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart,
I'll come to you, anon.

Mur.
We are resolv'd, my lord. [Exeunt Murderers.

Macb.
It is concluded;—Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heav'n, must find it out, to-night. [Exit Macbeth. Scene SCENE, another Apartment in the Palace. Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.

Lady.
Is Banquo gone from court?

Serv.
Ay, madam, but returns again, to-night.

Lady.
Say to the king I would attend his leisure,
For a few words.

Serv.
Madam, I will. [Exit.

Lady.
Nought's had, all's spent,
Where our desire is got without consent:
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. Enter Macbeth.
How now, my lord, why do you keep alone?
Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
Using those thoughts, which should indeed have dy'd
With them they think on? Things without all remedy,
Should be without regard; what's done is done.

Macb.
We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it—
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let both worlds disjoint, and all things suffer,

Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams,
That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
(Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace,)
Than on the torture of the mind to lie,
In restless ecstasy.—Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him further!* ^note

Lady.
Come on;
Gentle, my lord, sleek o'er your rugged look:
Be bright, and jovial, 'mong your guests, to-night.

Macb.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'st that Banquo and his Fleance live.

Lady.
But in them nature's copy's not eternal.

Macb.
There's comfort yet, they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
The shard-born beetle with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

Lady.
What's to be done?

Macb.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
'Till thou applaud the deed; come, seeling night,&verbar2; ^note
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,
Which keeps me pale! light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to th' rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowze,
While night's black agents to their prey do rowze.

Thou marvel'st at my words; but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill.* ^note [Exeunt. Scene SCENE changes to a Park; the Castle at a Distance. Enter three Murderers.

1 Mur.
But who bid thee join with us?

3 Mur.
Macbeth.

2 Mur.
He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
Our offices, and what we have to do,
To the direction just.

1 Mur.
Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,
To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The subject of our watch.

3 Mur.
Hark, I hear horses.

Banquo within.]
Give us lights, there, ho!

2 Mur.
Then it is he; the rest,
That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'th' court.

1 Mur.
His horses go about.

3 Mur.
Almost a mile: but he does usually,
(So all men do,) from hence to th' palace gate,
Make it their walk. Enter Banquo and Fleance.

1 Mur.
'Tis he. Follow me. [Exeunt. [A clash of swords, they assault Banquo.

Ban.
Oh, treachery! [Within.
Fly, Fleance; fly, fly, fly,
Thou may'st revenge. Oh slave! [Dies. [Fleance runs across the stage, and escapes.

Scene SCENE changes to a room of state in the castle. A banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords and Attendance. A Flourish.* ^note

Macb.
You know your own degrees, sit down:
At first and last, the hearty welcome.

Ross.
Thanks to your majesty.

Macb.
Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host:
Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
We will require her welcome. [They sit.

Lady.
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends,
For my heart speaks, they're welcome.

Macb.
See, they encounter thee with their hearts thanks,
Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' th' midst;
Be large in mirth, anon we'll drink a measure, Enter first Murderer.
The table round—There's blood upon thy face. [To the Mur. aside, at the door.

Mur.
'Tis Banquo's, then.

Macb.
'Tis better thee without, than he within.
Is he dispatch'd?

Mur.
My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.

Macb.
Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet he's good
That did the like for Fleance.

Mur.
Most royal sir,
Fleance is 'scap'd.

Macb.
Then comes my sit again: I had else been perfect,* ^note
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;
As broad and gen'ral as the casing air:
But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe—

Mur.
Ay my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The least a death to nature.

Macb.
Thanks for that;
There the grown serpent lies: the worm that's fled,
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to-morrow
We'll hear't ourselves again. [Exit Murderer.

Lady.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold,
That is not often vouched, while 'tis making
'Tis given with welcome. To feed, were best at home;
From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it. [The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place.

Macb.
Sweet remembrancer!
Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!

Len.
May't please your highness, sit?

Macb.
Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
Were the great person of our Banquo present,—
(Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness,
Than pity for mischance.)

Rosse.
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
To grace us with your royal company?

Macb.
The table's full. [Starting.

Len.
Here's a place reserv'd, sir.

Macb.
Where?

Len.
Here, my good lord.
What is't that moves your highness?

Macb.
Which of you have done this?

Lords.
What, my good lord?

Macb.
Thou can'st not say, I did it: never shake
Thy gory locks at me.

Rosse.
Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well.

Lady.
Sit, worthy friends, my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat,
The sit is momentary, on a thought
He will again be well. If much you note him,
You shall offend him, and extend his passion;
Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? [To Macb. side.

Macb.
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that,
Which might appal the devil.

Lady.
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear; [Aside.
This is the air drawn dagger, which you said,
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts
(Impostors to true fear) would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!—
When all's done, you look but on a chair.† ^note

Macb.
Pr'ythee, see there!
Behold!* ^note look! lo! how say you? [Pointing to the Ghost.
Why, what care I! if thou canst nod, speak, too.—
If charnel houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites. [The Ghost vanishes.

Lady.
What? quite unmann'd in folly?

Macb.
If I stand here, I saw him—

Lady.
Fie for shame!

Macb.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i'th'olden time,
Ere human statute purg'd the general weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for th' ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools; this is more strange,
Than such a murder is.

Lady.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb.
I do forget—
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me.&verbar2; ^note Come, love and health to all!
Then I'll sit down: give me some wine, fill full—
I drink to th' general joy of the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lords.
Our duties, and the pledge. [The Ghost rises again.

Macb.
Avaunt, and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold,
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes,
Which thou dost glare with.

Lady.
Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom; 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb.
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros or Hyrcanian tyger,
Take any shape but That, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble; or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockr'y, hence! Why, so,—being gone, [The Ghost vanishes.
I am a man again: pray you sit still. [The Lords rise.

Lady.
You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting
With most admir'd disorder.

Macb.
Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder! You make me strange,
Ev'n to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine is blanch'd with fear.

Rosse.
What sights, my lord?

Lady.
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him; at once, good night.
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.

Len.
Good-night, and better health
Attend his majesty!

Lady.
Good-night to all. [Exeunt Lords.

Macb.
It will have blood—they say blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, that understood relations, have,
By magpies, and by choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st men of blood.—What is the night?

Lady.
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Macb.
How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person,
At our great bidding?

Lady.
Did you send to him, sir?

Macb.
I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There's not a Thane of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will, to-morrow,
(Betimes I will) unto the weyward sisters:* ^note
More shall they speak; for now I'm bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst for mine own good.
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

Lady.
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

Macb.
Come, we'll to sleep; my strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:
We're yet but young in deed. [Exeunt.

Scene SCENE changes to the Heath. Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.

1 Witch.
Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.

Hec.
Have I not reason, beldams as you are?
Saucy and over-bold! how did you dare
To trade and traffick with Macbeth,
In riddles and affairs of death?
And I the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or shew the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son;
Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends, now; get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron,
Meet me, i' th' morning: thither he
Will come, to know his destiny;
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside.
I am for th' air: this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal, fatal end.
Great business must be wrought, ere noon;
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vap'rous drop profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground;
And that distill'd by magic slights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:
And you all know, security
Is mortals chiefest enemy.* ^note

Witches within.

Witch.
Hecate, Hecate,—come away.

Hec.
Hark, hark, I'm call'd,
My little merry airy spirit see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and waits for me.

Witch.
Hecate, Hecate. (within)

Hec.
Thy chirping voice I hear,
  So pleasing to my ear,
  At which I post away,
  With all the speed I may.
Where's Puckle? Enter Witches.

Witch.
Here.

Hec.
Where Stradling?

Witch.
Here.
  And Hopper too, and Hellway too.
  We want but you, we want but you.

3 Voi.
Come away, come away, make up th'account.

Hec.
With new fall'n dew,
  From church-yard yew,
  I will but 'noint, and then I'll mount.
Now I'm furnish'd for my flight. [Symphony, whilst Hecate places herself in the machine.
  Now I go, and now I fly,
  Malkin my sweet spirit and I,
  O what a dainty pleasure's this,
    To sail in the air,
    When the moon shines fair,
  To sing, to dance, to toy and kiss,
  Over woods, high rocks and mountains;
  Over hills and misty fountains;
  Over steeples, tow'rs, and turrets,
  We fly by night 'mong troops of spirits.

Chor.
We fly by night 'mong troops of spirits. [Exeunt. ^note End of the Third Act.

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