Dun.
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 confess'd his treasons:
Implor'd 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 ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.(C)8Q0163

Dun.
There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust. O worthiest cousin! Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus R.
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 deserv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been more! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.

Macbeth.
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.

Dun.
Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

To make thee full of growing.^{1 note} Noble Banquo,
Thou hast no less deserv'd, 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.

Dun.
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:(D)8Q0164 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.

Macbeth.
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.

Dun.
My worthy Cawdor!

Macbeth.
The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, (aside)
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.

Dun.
True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant ^note
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. [Exeunt, R.

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