Welcome to PhiloLogic  
   home |  the ARTFL project |  download |  documentation |  sample databases |   
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.

Next section

SCENE I. A Royal Apartment.

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?

-- 550 --

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.

Next section


George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
Powered by PhiloLogic