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. Enter Macbeth, as King; Lenox, Seyton, Lords, and Attendants, L.

Mac.
Here's our chief guest.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all things unbecoming.
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 tie
For ever knit.

Macbeth.
Ride you this afternoon?

Ban.
Ay, my good lord.

Macbeth.
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.

Macbeth.
Fail not our feast.

Ban.
My lord, I will not. (crosses to L.)

Macbeth.
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.

Macbeth.
I wish your horses swift, and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewell.— [Exit Banquo and Fleance, L.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone; while then, Heaven be with you. [Exeunt Lords, &c., L.
Sirrah, a word; Attend those men our pleasure?

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

Macbeth.
Bring them before us. [Exit Seyton, L.
To be thus, is nothing;
But to be safely thus;—Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep. He chide 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 sceptre 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^{1 note} my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
And mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance!^{2 note}—Who's there?

[Re-enter Seyton, with Two Murderers, L.
Now to the door, and stay there till we call. [Exit Seyton, R.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

1st Mur.
It was, so please your highness.

Macbeth.
Well then, now
Have you consider'd of my speeches? Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd,
To pray for this good man, and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours for ever?

2nd Mur.
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what
I do, to spite the world.

1st Mur.
And I another,
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.

Macbeth.
Both of you
Know, Banquo was your enemy.

2nd Mur.
True, my lord.

Macbeth.
So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,^{3 note}
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.

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

1st Mur.
Though our lives—

Macbeth.
Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour, at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves.
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
And something from the palace; always thought,

That I require a clearness. And with him,
(To leave no rubs, nor botches in the work),
Fleance, his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;
I'll come to you anon.

2nd Mur.
We are resolved, my lord.

Macbeth.
I'll call upon you straight; abide within. [Exeunt Murderers, L.
It is concluded:—Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exit, L. Enter Lady Macbeth and Seyton, R.

Lady M.
Is Banquo gone from court?

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

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

Sey.
Madam, I will. [Exit L.

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

Macbeth.
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 the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds 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 ecstacy.^{4 note} 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.

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

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

Lady M.
But in them nature's copy's not eterne.

Macbeth.
There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight,^{5 note} ere, to black Hecate's summons,
The shard-borne beetle,^{6 note} with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

Lady M.
What's to be done?

Macbeth.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,^{7 note}
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,^{8 note}
Skarf 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 the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvell'st at my words; but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill:
So pr'ythee, go with me. [Exeunt, L.

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