Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling 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 the rooky wood;

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, prithee, go with me.

[Exeunt.

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?

Third Mur.

Macbeth.

Second 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.

Third Mur.

Ban. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho!

Second Mur.

5

Hark! I hear horses.

Then 'tis he; the rest

10

That are within the note of expectation,

Already are i' the court.

First Mur.

His horses go about.

Third Mur. Almost a mile; but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate

[Assaults BANQUO.

Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge.—O slave !

[Dies. FLEANCE escapes. Third Mur. Who did strike out the light?

20

Was 't not the

way ?

First Mur.
Third Mur. There's but one down; the son is fled.
Second Mur. We have lost best half of our affair.
First Mur. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-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.

Lords.

Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,

And play the humble host.

Thanks to your majesty.

Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,

5

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 :

10

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 despatch'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.

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, 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 trenched gashes on his head;

The least a death to nature.

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.

Macb.

Sweet remembrancer!

Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!

Len.

15

20

25

30

335

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,

40

Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness

Than pity for mischance!

Ross.

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. Here is a place reserv'd, sir.

Macb. Where?

45

Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me.

50

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

55

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.

Lady M.

This is the very painting of
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,

Authoris'd by her grandam. Shame itself!

O proper stuff!

60

your fear:

65

Why do you make such faces? When all's done,

You look but on a stool.

Macb. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.

If charnel-houses and our graves must send

Ꭰ

70

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;

Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the 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 murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.

Lady M.

My worthy lord,

Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb.

I do forget:

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;

75

80

85

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;

Then I'll sit down :-give me some wine, fill full :

I drink to the 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.

[Ghost rises again.

90

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 M.

95

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: