L. M^b.
Is Banquo gone from court?

Att.
Ay, madam; but returns again to-night.

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

Att.
Madam, I will. [Exit Attendant.

L. M^b.
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.
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.

Mac^b.
We have scotch'd ^note the snake,14Q0511 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, ^note have sent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lye
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 domestick, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further.

L. M^b.
Come on; Gentle my lord,
Sleek o'er your rugged looks; be bright and jovial
Among ^note your guests to-night.

Mac^b.
So shall I, love;
And so, I pray, be you: let your remembrance ^note
Apply to Banquo; present him eminence, both
With eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we
Must lave our honours in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.

L. M^b.
You must leave this.

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

L. M^b.
But in them nature's copy's not etern.

Mac^b.
There's comfort yet, they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund: Ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecat'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.

L. M^b.
What's to be done?

Mac^b.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
'Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
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 the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowze;
While night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
Thou marvel'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill:
So, pr'ythee, go with me. [Exeunt.

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