Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy. Enter Macbeth. -How now, my lord? why do you keep alone? Macb. We have scotch'd 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, That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead, In restless ecstacy. Duncan is in his grave; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugg'd looks; Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue : Must lave our honours in these flattering streams; And make our faces vizards to our hearts, Disguising what they are. Lady M. You must leave this. Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. Lady M. But in them nature's copy's not eternes, Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund! Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight; 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. Lady M. What's to be done? Mach. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And, with thy bloody and invisible hand, Which keeps me pale !-Light thickens; and the crow Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse. 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 III.-The same. A Park or Lawn, with a Gate leading to the Palace. Enter three Murderers. 1 Mur. But who bid thee join with us? 3 Mur. Macbeth. 2 Mur. He needs not our 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 lated traveller apace, To gain the timely inn; and near approaches 3 Mur. Hark! I hear horses. Then it is he; the rest Ban. [within.] Give us a light there, ho! 2 Mur. That are within the note of expectation, Already are i'the courts 1 Mur His horses go about. 3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk. Enter Banquo and Fleance, a Servant with a torch Ban., O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly; Thou may'st revenge.- -O slave! [Dies. Fleance and Servant escape. 3 Mur. Who did strike out the light? Was't not the way? 1 Mur. 2 Mur. We have lost best half of our affair. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Room of State in the Palace. A Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants. Mach. You know your own degrees, sit down; at first And last, the hearty welcome. Lords. 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. Enter first Murderer, to the door. Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts" thanks: Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i' the midst: Mach. 'Tis better thee without, than he within. Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. good, That did the like for Fleance; if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil. Mur. Fleance is 'scap'd. Most royal sir, 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 am cabin'd, eribb'd, confin'd, bound in Macb. 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. Lady M. [Exit Murderer. 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. Mach. Sweet remembrancer!- Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both! Len. May it please your highness sit? [The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place. 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. Please it your highness To grace us with your royal company? Macb. The table's full. Len. Macb. Here's a place reserv'd, sir. Where? Len. Here, my lord. What is't that moves your highness? Mach. Which of you have done this? Lords. What, my good lord? Macb. Thou can'st 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; He will again be well: If much you note him, Lady M. This is the very painting of your fear: |