Whom I may rather challenge for unkindness, Rosse. His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your high ness To grace us with your royal company? Macb. The table's full. Len. Macb. Where? Len. Here's a place reserv'd, sir. Here, my lord. What is't that moves your highness? 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. Rosse. 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, Lady M. proper stuff: 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! * As quick as thought. + Prolong his suffering. + Sudden gusts. Why do you make such faces? When all's done, You look but on a stool. Macb. Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you? Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. Macb. If I stand here, I saw him. Lady M. Fie, for shame! Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal; Lady M. My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you. Macb I do forget:Do not muse* at me, my most worthy friends; I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing [all: To those that know me. Come, love and health to Then I'll sit down:- -Give me some wine, fill full: : I drink to the general joy of the whole table, Ghost rises. And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, * Wonder. And all to all*. Our duties, and the pledge. Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Which thou dost glare with! Lady M. Think of this, good peers, But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke 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 Even 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 are blanch'd with fear. Rosse. * i. e. All good wishes to all. What sights, my lord? + Forbid. § Possess. Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him: at once, good night:— But go at once. Good night, and better health Attend his majesty! A kind good night to all! [Exeunt Lords and Attendants. Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: Stones have been known to move, and trees to Augurs, and understood relations, have [speak; By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood. ACT IV. THE POWER OF WITCHES. I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me: Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves. Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg'd‡, and trees blown down; Though castles topples on their warder's heads; To what I ask you. * Magpies. § Tumble. + Frothy. Laid flat by wind or rain. Seeds which have begun to sprout. MALCOLM'S CHARACTER OE HIMSELF. Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, [graces, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them; but abound In the division of each several crime, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth. Macd. O Scotland! Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live.-O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant, bloody-scepter'd, By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed?—Thy royal father Died every day she liv'd. Fare thee well! Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my breast, Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth By many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me |