SCENE VI. Changes to the palace.

Flourish. Enter King Malcom, Donald Bane, Lenox, and Attendants.

King. Is execution done on Cawdor yet?
Or not those in commiffion yet return'd?
Mal. My Liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die; who did report,
That very frankly he confefs'd his treasons ;
Implor'd your Highness' pardon, and set forth
A deep repentance; nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it. He dy'd,
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the deareft thing he own'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's conftruction in the face.
He was a Gentleman, on whom I built
An abfolute truft.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus.

O worthieft coufin!

The fin of my ingratitude e'en now
Was heavy on me. Thou'rt fo far before,
That fwifteft wing of recompence is flow,

To overtake thee. 'Would thou'dft lefs deferv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I've left to say,
More is thy due, ev'n more than all can pay.
Mach. The fervice and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itfelf. Your Highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties

Are to your throne, and ftate, children and fervants ;-
Which do but what they fhould, by doing every thing,
Fief'd tow'rd your life and honour.

King. Welcome hither.

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

To make thee full of growing.

Noble Banquo,

Thou haft no lefs deferv'd, and must be known
No lefs to have done fo: let me infold thee,

ti. e. engaged to the support of.

And

And hold thee to my heart.

Ban. There if I

grow,

The harvest is your own.

King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of forrow. Sons, kinfmen, Thanes,
And you whofe places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our estate upon

Our eldest Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not unaccompanied invest him only;

But figns of nobleness, like stars, shall shine

On all defervers.-Hence to Inverness,

And bind us further to you.

[To Macbeth.

Macb. The reft is labour, which is not us'd for you; I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful

The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland!-that is a ftep,
On which I muft fall down, or else o'erleap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!

Let not Night fee my black and deep defires:
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to fee.

[Afide.

[Exit.

King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full fo valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed ;

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whofe care is gone before to bid us welcome.
It is a peerlefs kiafman.

SCENE VII.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

Changes to an apartment in Macbeth's cafle at Inverness. Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.

Lady. They met me in the day of fuccefs: and I have learn'd by the perfected report †, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burnt in defire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanifh'd. While I flood rapt in the wonder of it, came miffives from the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Caw

† report, for prediction.

dor:

dor by which title, before, thefe weyward fifters faluted me, and referr'd me to the coming on of time, with Hail ! King that fhalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, (my dearest partner of greatness), that thou might'ft not lofe the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and fare

el.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor-and fhalt be

What thou art promis'd.

"Yet do I fear thy nature;

"It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness,
"To catch the nearest way.
"Art not without ambition;
"The illness should attend it.

Thou wouldst be great, but without

highly,

What thou wouldst

That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldft wrongly win. Thou'dft have, great

Glamis,

That which cries, This thou must do, if thou have it;
And that's what rather thou doft fear to do,
Than wifheft should be undone.

Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chaftife with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate, and metaphyfic † aid, doth feem
To have crown'd thee withal.

Enter Meffenger.

What is your tidings?

Me. The King comes here to-night.

Lady. Thou'rt mad to fay it.

Is not thy master with him? who, were't fo,

Would have inform'd for preparation.

Meff. So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming.

One of my fellows had the speed of him;

Who, almoft, dead for breath, had scarcely more

Than would make up his meffage.

Lady. Give him tending;

He brings great news. The raven himself's not hoarfe,

[Exit. Meff.

• That

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan • Under my battlements. Come, all you spirits

metaphyfic, for fupernatural.

That tend on mortal * thoughts, unsex me here
And fill me, from the crown to th' toe, top-full
Of direft cruelty; make thick my blood,
"Stop up th' accefs and paffage to remorfe,

That ho compunctious vifitings of nature

;

Shake my fell purpofe, nor keep peace + between. Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring ministers ! 'Where-ever in your fightless substances

'You wait on nature's mifchief.-Come, thick night! And pall thee in the dunnest smoak of hell,

That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes; Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark, * To cry, Hold, hold !

Enter Macbeth.

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

[Embracing him.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !

Thy letters have tranfported me beyond

This ign'rant § prefent time, and I feel now
The future in the inftant.

Mach. Deareft love,

Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady. And when goes lience?

Mach. To-morrow, as he purposes.
Lady. Oh never

Shall fun that morrow fee!.

Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read ftrange ** matters. To beguile the time,

Look like the time; bear welcome in your eyc,
Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,
But be the ferpent under't. He that's coming
Must be provided for; and you fhall put
This night's great business into my dispatch,
Which fhall to all our nights and days to come
Give folely fovereign fway and mafterdom.

VOL. VI.

i. e. deadly.

X

Macb.

† keep peace, for go between fimply. The allufion to officers of tice who keep peace between rioters by going between them. & nature, for human.

e. wrap thyfelf in a pall.

Signorant, for bafe, poor, ignoble.
Arange, for dangerous.

Mach. We will speak further.
Lady. Only look up clear:

To alter favour, ever, is to fear.

Leave all the rest to me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. Before Macbeth's cafle-gate.

Hautboys and torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donald Bane,
Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Roffe, Angus, and Attendants.

King. This caftle hath a pleafant feat*; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our general sense.

Ban. This gueft of fummer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here. No jutting frieze,
Buttrice, nor coigne of 'vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle :
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd
The air is delicate.

Enter Lady.

King. See, see! our honour'd hostess!

The love that follows us fometimes is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you should bid God-yeld 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 fingle business to contend

Against thofe honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majefty loads our house. For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We reft 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,

*

feat is the fame word as fite.

And

To bid any one God-yeld bim,i, c. God yield him, was the fame 28 God reward him.

hermits, for beadfmen.