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Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In restless ecstacy. Duncan is in his grave ;—
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well:

Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further!

Lady. Come on; Gentle my lord,

Sleek o'er your rugged looks; be bright and jovial
Among your guests to-night.

Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, live.
Lady. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
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. What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest

Till thou applaud the deed.—Come, seeling night,
Scarf 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


Makes wing to the rooky wood:

Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
While night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
Thou marvel'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill.



A Park, near the Palace, at Fores.

Enter the Two Officers.

1 Off. 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.

2 Off. Hark! I hear horses.

Ban. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho!
1 Off. Then it is he; the rest

That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'the court.

2 Off. His horses go about.

1 Off. Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate, Make it their walk.

2 Off. A light, a light!

1 Off. "Tis he.

Enter Fleance, with a Torch, and Banquo.

Ban. It will rain to-night.

[Exeunt Fleance and Banquo.

1 Off. Let it come down.

[Exeunt Officers. Ban. [Within.] O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!

Fie. [Within.] Murder! murder! murder!

Ban. [Within.] Thou may'st revenge.—O, slave!--O, 0, 0!

Enter Officers.

1 Off. Who did strike out the light?

2 Off. Was't not the way?.


1 Off. There's but one down; the son is fled. 2 Off. We have lost best half of our affair.

1 Off. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.



The Banqueting Room, in the Palace, at Fores.

Music.—A Banquet prepared.


Macb. You know your own degrees, sit down: at first,

And last, the hearty welcome.

Rosse. 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. 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 :

Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.—

Enter First Officer.

There's blood upon thy face. 1 Off. "Tis Banquo's then. Macb. Is he despatch'd?

1 Off. My lord, his throat is cut: that I did for


Macb. Thou art the best o'the cut-throats: Yet he's


That did the like for Fleance.

1 Off. Most royal sir,

Fleance is 'scap'd.

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?
1 Off. Ay, my good lord; safe in a ditch he

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. 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. May it please your highness sit?

Macb. Here had we now our country's honour


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 high


To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here is a place reserv'd, sir.

Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?

Macb. Which of you have done this?

Len. What, my good lord?

Macb. Thou canst not say, I did it

Thy gory locks at me.

never shake

Rosse. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well. Lady. Sit, worthy friends :—my lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth: 'pray you, keep


The fit is momentary; upon a thought

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 appall the devil.

Lady. O, 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!
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.--
If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send
Those, that we bury, back; our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

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