MACB. Who can be wife, amaz'd, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: The expedition of my violent love Out-ran the pauser reafon.-Here lay Duncan, And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature, LADY M. Help me hence, ho! MAL. Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours? Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole, MAL. Nor our ftrong forrow on The foot of motion. BAN. Look to the lady : [Lady MACBETH is carried out. And when we have our naked frailties hid, That suffer in exposure, let us meet, And question this moft bloody piece of work, Of treasonous malice. MACB. And fo do I. ALL. So all. MACB. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i'the hall together. ALL. Well contented. [Exeunt all but MAL. and DON. MAL. What will you do? Let's not confort with them: To fhow an unfelt forrow, is an office Which the falfe man does eafy: I'll to England. DON. To Ireland, I; our feparated fortune Shall keep us both the fafer: where we are, MAL. This murderous fhaft that's fhot, SCENE IV. Without the Caftle. Enter RossE, and an OLD MAN. OLD M. Threefcore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things ftrange; but this fore night Hath trifled former knowings. ROSSE. Ah, good father, Thou fee'ft, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, OLD M. 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday laft, Was by a moufing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd. ROSSE. And Duncan's horses, (a thing moft ftrange and certain,) Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, OLD M. 'Tis faid, they eat each other. eyes, ROSSE. They did fo; to the amazement of mine That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:. Enter MACDUFF. How goes the world, fir, now? MACD. Why, fee you not? [deed? ROSSE. Is't known, who did this more than bloody MACD. Those that Macbeth hath flain. ROSSE. Alas, the day! What good could they pretend? MACD. They were fuborn'd: Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two fons, Are ftol'n away and fled; which puts upon them ROSSE. 'Gainst nature ftill : Thriftlefs ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means !-Then 'tis moft like, MACD. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone, ROSSE. Where is Duncan's body? The facred storehouse of his predeceffors, And guardian of their bones. ROSSE. Will you to Scone? MACD. No, coufin, I'll to Fife. ROSSE. Well, I will thither. MACD. Well, may you fee things well done there ; adieu! Left our old robes fit easier than our new! ROSSE. Father, farewell. OLD M. God's benison go with you; and with thofe That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. Fores. A Room in the Palace. BAN. Thou haft it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear, Thou play'dft most foully for't: yet it was said, But that myself should be the root, and father And fet me up in hope? But, hush; no more. Senet founded. Enter MACBETH, as King; Lady MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, ROSSE, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants. MACB. Here's our chief gueft. LADY M. If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming. MACB. To-night we hold a folemn fupper, fir, And I'll request your presence., BAN. Let your highness VOL. III. C Command upon me; to the which, my duties Are with a moft indiffoluble tie For ever knit. MACB. Ride you this afternoon? BAN. Ay, my good lord. MACB. We should have else defir'd your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and profperous,) In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride? BAN. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and fupper: 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 coufins are beftow'd In England, and in Ireland; not confeffing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: But of that to-morrow; When, therewithal, we fhall have cause of ftate, Craving us jointly. Hie you 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 fure of foot; And fo I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.. Let every man be mafter of his time Till feven at night; to make fociety The fweeter welcome, we will keep ourself [Exit BANQUO. Till fupper-time alone: while then, God be with you. [Exeunt Lady MACBETH, Lords, Ladies, &c. Sirrah, a word: Attend thofe men our pleasure? ATTEN. They are, my lord, without the palace gate. |