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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 all remedy
Should be without regard : what's done is done.
Macb. We have scotch'd(58) 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, (59)
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
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 domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further.
Come on; gentle my lord,
Sleek o'er your rugged looks; be bright and jovial
Among your guests to-night.
So shall I, love;
And so, I pray,
be you: let your remembrance
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 visards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
You must leave this.
Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife !
Thou know'st that Banquo and his Fleance live.
Lady J. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable ;
Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd fight; ere, to black Hecate's summons,
The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.
What's to be done?
Macb. 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 :(60)
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.-
Thou marvellist at my words: but hold thee still ;
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill :
So, prithee, go with me.
SCENE III. The same. A park, with a gate leading
to the palace.
Enter three Murderers.
First Mur. But who did bid thee join with us ?
Sec. Mur. He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers
Our offices, and what we have to do,
To the direction just.
First Mur. Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated traveller apace
To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The subject of our watch.
Hark! I hear horses.
Ban. [within] Give us a light there, ho!
Then 'tis he: the rest
That are within the note of expectation
Already are i’ the court.
His horses go about.
Third Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace-gate
Make it their walk.
Sec. Mur. A light, a light!
First Mur. Stand to't.
Enter Banquo, and FLEANCE with a torch.(61)
Ban. It will be rain to-night.
Let it come down.
[They assault Banquo. Ban. O, treachery !-Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge.— slave ! [Dies. Fleance escapes.
Third Mur. Who did strike out the light?
Was't not the way?
Third Mur. There's but one down; the son is fled.
We've lost Best half of our affair. First Mur. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
SCENE IV. The same. A room of state in the palace.
A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, Lady MACBETH, Ross,
LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants.
Macb. You know your own degrees, sit down: at first
And last the hearty welcome.
Thanks to your majesty.
Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state ; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.
Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
For my heart speaks they are welcome.
Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts'
thanks.Both sides are even : here I'll sit i’ the midst:
Enter first Murderer to the door. Be large in mirth ; anon we'll drink a measure The table round.—There's blood upon thy face.
Mur. 'Tis Banquo's, then.
Macb. 'Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch'd ?
Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
Macb. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil. 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 general as the casing air:
But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenchèd gashes on his head;
The least a death to nature.
Thanks for that:
There the grown serpent lies; the worm, that's fled,
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for the present. ---Get thee gone : to-morrow
We'll hear, ourselves, again.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
Sweet remembrancer !-
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
May't please your highness sit.
[The Ghost of Banquo enters, and sits in Macbeth's
Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Than pity for mischance !
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please 't your highness
To grace us with your royal company.
Macb. The table 's full.
Here is a place reserv’d, sir.
Len. Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your
Macb. Which of you have done this?
What, my good lord ? Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me.
Ross. Gentlemen, rise ; his highness is not well.
Lady M. Sit, worthy friends :—my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon 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 ?
Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appal the devil.
This is the very painting of your fear :
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, 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 itself !
Why do you make such faces ?
make such faces? When all's done, You look but on a stool.
Macb. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say
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.
[Ghost disappears. Lady M.
What, quite unmann’d in folly ? Macb. If I stand here, I saw him. Lady M.
Fie, for shame! Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal ;(62) Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’d Too terrible for th' ear: the time has been, (63)