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Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

Macb. My dearest love,

Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady. And when

goes hence?


Macb. To-morrow, as he

Lady. O, never

Shall sun that morrow see!

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters :—To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady. Only look up clear;

To alter favour ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.


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The Gates of Inverness Castle.

Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

Enter King Duncan, Banquo, Malcolm, Do-
Nalbain, Macduff, Lenox, Rosse, and At-


King. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

Unto our gentle senses.

Ban. This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the Heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty frieze,

Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird

Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle: Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, The air is delicate.

Enter Lady Macbeth, Seyton, and Two Ladies. King. See, see! our honour'd hostess!

The love, that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid Heaven yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.

Lady. All our service

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend

Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house: For those of old,
And the late dignities hcap'd up to them,

We rest your hermits.

King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?

We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.

Lady. Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

King. Give me your


Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.

[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt.


Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere ' well

It were done quickly, if the assassination

Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his success, surcease That but this blow
Might be the be-all, and the end-all, here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time!—
We'd jump the life to come.—But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongu'd, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off:—
I have no spur

To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other—How now! what news?

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady. He has almost supp'd; Why have you left

the chamber?

Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady. Know you not, he has?

Macb. We will proceed no further in this business : He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people,

Which would be worn, now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

Lady. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dress'd yourself! hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love.—Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act. and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,—
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' the adage?
Macb. 'Prythee, peace :

I dare do all that may become a man,
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady. What beast was it then,

That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more than man, Nor time, nor place,
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both :
They have made themselves, and that their fitness

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Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know
How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I but so sworn
As you
have done to this.
Macb. If we should fail?
Lady. We fail:-


But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,


(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassel so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only: When in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie, as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spungy officers; who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?

Math. Bring forth men children only!
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have done't?

Lady. Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?

Macb. I am settled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.—

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.




Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.

The Gallery.

Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a Torch.

Ban. How goes the night, boy?

Fie. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

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