Enter Banquo.
Thou hast it now; King, Cawdor, Glamis, all
The weyward women promis'd; and I fear
Thou plaid'st most foully for't: yet it was said
It should not stand in thy posterity,
But that my self 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. Trumpets sound. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth, Lenox, Rosse, Lords and Attendants.

Macb.
Here's our chief guest.

Lady.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all things unbecoming.

Macb.
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.

Ban.
My lord, I will not.

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 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.
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 our self
'Till supper time alone: till then, God be with you. [Exeunt Lady Macbeth, and Lords. SCENE II. Manent Macbeth and a Servant.

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. [Ex. ser.
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
Antony's was by Cæsar. He chid the sisters,
When first they put the name of King upon me,
And bad 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 fil'd my mind?
For them, the gracious Duncan have I murther'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,
And champion me to th' utterance!—who's there? Enter servant, and two murtherers.
Go to the door, and stay there 'till we call. [Exit servant.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

Mur.
It was, so please your highness.

Macb.
Well then, now
You have consider'd of my speeches? know
That it was he, in the times past, which held you

So under fortune, which you thought had been
Our innocent self; this I made good to you
In our last conf'rence, past in probation with you:
How you were born in hand, how crost; the instruments,
Who wrought with them: and all things else that might
To half a soul, and to a notion craz'd,
Say, thus did Banquo.

1 Mur.
True, you made it known.

Macb.
I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. 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?

1 Mur.
We are men, my liege.

Macb.
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men,
As hounds, and greyhounds, mungrels, spaniels, curs,
Showghes, water-rugs, and demy-wolves are clipt
All by the name of dogs; the valued 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; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: 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 the 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.

2 Mur.
I am one,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am † ^notereckless what
I do, to spite the world.

1 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.

Macb.
Both of you
Know Banquo was your enemy.

Mur.
True, my lord.

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 certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Whom I my self struck down: and thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
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 your selves,
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'th' time,
The moment on't, (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,
(Whose absence is no less material to me,

Than is his father's) must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve your selves a-part,
I'll come to you anon.

Mur.
We are resolv'd, my lord.

Macb.
I'll call upon you straight; abide within.
It is concluded; Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heav'n, must find it out to-night. [Exeunt. SCENE III. 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.

Ser.
Madam, I will. [Exit.

Lady.
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.

Macb.
We have scorch'd the snake, not kill'd it—
She'll close, and be her self; 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 ecstasie.—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!

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

Macb.
So shall I, love; and so I pray be you;
Let your remembrance still apply to Banquo.
Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
Unsafe the while, that we must lave our honours
In these so flatt'ring streams, and make our faces
Vizards t'our hearts, disguising what they are.

Lady.
You must leave this.

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

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 cloyster'd flight, ere to black Hecat's summons
The shard-born beetle with his drowsie 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 sealing night,
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 th' rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowze,
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rowze.
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. SCENE IV. A Park, the Castle at a distance. Enter three Murtherers.

1 Mur.
But who did bid thee join with us?

3 Mur.
Macbeth.

2 Mur.
He needs not to 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 ^{a note}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 light 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, with a Torch.

2 Mur.
A light, a light.

3 Mur.
'Tis he.

1 Mur.
Stand to't.

Ban.
It will be rain to-night.

1 Mur.
Let it come down.

Ban.
Oh, treachery!
Fly, Fleance, fly, fly, fly,
Thou may'st revenge. Oh slave! [Dies. Fleance escapes.

3 Mur.
Who did strike out the light?

1 Mur.
Was't not the way?

3 Mur.
There's but one down; the son
Is fled.

2 Mur.
We've lost best half of our affair.

1 Mur.
Well, let's away, and say how much is done. [Exe. *SCENE V. A Room of State in the Castle. A Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.

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

Lords.
Thanks to your majesty.

Macb.
Our self 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. Enter first Murtherer.

Macb.
See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks.
Both sides are even: here I'll sit i'th' mid'st;
Be large in mirth, anon we'll drink a measure
The table round—There's blood upon thy face. [To the Murtherer 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, I did that for him.

Macb.
Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet he's good,
That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Thou art the non-pareil.

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

Macb.
Then comes my fit again: I 'had else been perfect;
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 sawcy 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 lyes: 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 our selves again. [Exit Murtherer.

Lady.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer; the feast is^{b note}cold

That is not often vouched, while 'tis making,
'Tis giv'n with welcome. To feed, were best at home;
From thence, the sawce 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 grac'd 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. Pleas't your highness
To grace us with your royal company?

Macb.
The table's full. [Starting.

Len.
Here is 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 goary 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 fit 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. aside.

Macb.
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that

Which might appall the devil.

Lady.
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 it self!—
Why do you make such faces? when all's done
You look but on a stool.

Macb.
Pr'ythee see there!
Behold! look! loe! 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 humane statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murthers 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 murthers on their crowns,
And push us from our stools; this is more strange
Than such a murther is.

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

Macb.
I forgot—
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. 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. Be alive again,
And dare me to the desart with thy sword;
If trembling I ^{d note}inhibit, then protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence horrible shadow,
Unreal mock'ry hence! Why so,—be 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;
Augures that understood relations have
By mag-pies, and by choughs, and rooks brought forth
The secret'st man 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 is not one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow
(Betimes I will) unto the weyward sisters.
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:
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.

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 indeed. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The Heath. Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.

1 Wit.
Why how now, Hecat', you look angerly

Hec.
Have I not reason, beldams, as you are?
Sawcy, 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 weyward son,
Spightful 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 magick 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 mortal's chiefest enemy. [Musick and a Song.
Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit see
Sits in the foggy cloud, and stays for me. [Sing within. Come away, come away, &c.

1 Wit.
Come, let's make haste, she'll soon be back again. [Exe. SCENE VII. Enter Lenox and another lord.

Len.
My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
Which can interpret farther: only I say
Things have been strangely born. The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth—marry he was dead:
And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late.
Whom you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous too
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbaine
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How did it grieve Macbeth? did he not straight
In pious rage the two delinquents tear,
That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
Was that not nobly done? ay, wisely too;
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
To hear the men deny't. So that I say
He has born all things well, and I do think
That had he Duncan's sons under his key,

(As and't please heav'n he shall not,) they should find
What 'twere to kill a father: so should Fleance.
But peace! for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear
Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?

Lord.
The sons of Duncan,
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Live in the English court, and are receiv'd
Of the most pious Edward, with such grace,
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff
Is gone to pray the King upon his aid
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward;
That by the help of these, (with Him above
To ratifie the work,) we may again
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights;
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives;
Do faithful homage, and receive free honours,
All which we pine for now. And this report
Hath so exasp'rated their King, that he
Prepares for some attempt.

Len.
Sent he to Macduff?

Lord.
He did; and with an absolute, Sir, not I,
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums; as who should say, you'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer.

Len.
And that well might
Advise him to a care to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come! that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering country,

Under a hand accurs'd!

Lord.
I'll send my pray'rs with him. [Exeunt.

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