Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't:

Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood, So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found Upon their pillows:

They star'd, and were distracted; no man's life Was to be trusted with them.

Mach. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them.

Macd. Wherefore did you so?

Macb. Vyho can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and furious,

Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love

Out-ran the pauser reason. Here lay Duncau,
His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in na-

ture,

For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,

That had a heart to love, and in that heart

Courage, to make his love known?

Lady M. Help me hence, ho!
Macd. Look to the lady.

Mal. Why do we hold our tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours ?
Don. What should be spoken here,

Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,
May rush, and seize us? Let's away; our tears

Are not yet brew'd.

Mal. Nor our strong sorrow 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 most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence,
Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight
Of treasonous malice.

Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i'the hall together.

[Exeunt all but MAL. and DoN. Mal. What will you do? Let's not consort with them:

To show an unfelt sorrow, is an office
Which the false man does easy: I'll to England.
Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer where we are,
There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody.

Mal. This murderous shaft that's shot,
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.

Within the volume of which time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night

Hath trifled former knowings.

Rosse. Ah, good father,

Thou see'st the heavens, as troubled with man's

act,

Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame, That darkness, does the face of earth intomb, When living light should kiss it?

Old M. 'Tis unnatural,

Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,

Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd. Rosse. And Duncan's horses, (a thing most

Beauteous and swift, the

Turn'd wild in nature,

strange and certain,) minions of their race, broke their stalls, flung

out,

Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind.

Old M. 'Tis said, they eat each other.

Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,

That look'd upon't, Here comes the good Macduff:

Enter MACDUFF.

How goes the world, Sir, now?

Macd. Why, see you not?

Rosse. Is't known, who did this more than

bloody deed?

Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Rosse. Alas, the day!

What good could they pretend?

Macd. They were suborn'd:

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the King's two sons, Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse, 'Gainst nature still :

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up

-

Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like, The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone, To be invested.

Rosse. Where is Duncan's body?
Macd. Carried to Colmes-kill;

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.

Rosse. Will you to Scone?

Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Rosse. Well, I will thither.

Macd. Well, may you see things well done

adieu!

Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

Kosse. Father, farewell.

Old M. God's benison go with you; and with

those

That would make good of bad, and friends of

foes!

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Fores. A Room in the Palace.

Enter BANQUO.

Ban. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,

As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said,
It should not stand in thy posterity;

But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many Kings. If there come truth from them,
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,)
Why, by the verities or thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,

And set me up in hope? But, hush; no more.

Senet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as King; Lady MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, ROSSE, Lords, Ladies and Attendants.

Mach. Here's our chief guest.

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 solemn supper, Sir, And I'll request your presence.

Ban. Let your Highness

Command upon me; to the which my duties.
Are with a most indissoluble tie

For ever knit..