Remains in danger of her former tooth.

But let both worlds disjoint, and all things fuffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and fleep
In the affliction of these terrible Dreams,

That shake us nightly. Better be with the Dead,
(Whom we, to gain our Place, have fent to Peace)
Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In reftless ecstafie.

Duncan is in his Grave;

After life's fitful fever, he fleeps well;

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

Lady. Come on ;

you;

Gentle my lord, fleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright, and jovial, 'mong your guests to night.
Macb. So fhall I, Love; and fo, I pray, be
Let your remembrance ftill apply to Banquo.
Prefent him Eminence, both with eye and tongue:
Unfafe the while, that we muft lave our honours
In these fo flatt'ring ftreams, and make our faces
Vizors t'our hearts, difguifing what they are!
Lady. You must leave this.

Macb. O, full of fcorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'ft, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Lady. But in them Nature's copy's not eternal.
Macb. There's comfort yet, they are affailable;
Then, be thou jocund. Ere the Bat hath flown
His cloyfter'd flight, ere to black Hecat's fummons
The fhard-born beetle with his drowfie 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, deareft chuck, 'Till thou applaud the Deed: come, feeling Night, Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,

And with thy bloody and invifible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,

Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the Crow
Makes wing to th' rooky wood:

Good

Good things of day begin to droop and drowze, Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rowze. Thou marvell'it at my words; but hold thee ftill; Things, bad begun, make ftrong themfelves by Ill: So, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Park; the Caftle at a diftance.

* Mur.

BU

Enter three Murtherers.

UT who did bid thee join with us?
3 Mur. Macbeth.

2 Mur. He needs not our Miftruft, fince he delivers Our offices, and what we have to do,

To the direction juft.

1 Mur. Then ftand with us.

The weft yet glimmers with fome streaks of day;
Now fpurs the lated traveller apace,

To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The fubject of our watch.

3 Mur. Hark, I hear horfes.

Banquo. [within.] Give us light there, ho!
2 Mur. Then it is he: the rest,

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

1 Mur. His horfes go about.

3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does ufually, (So all men do,) from hence to th' Palace-gate. Make it their Walk.

Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a Torch..

2 Mur. A light, a light.

3 Mur. 'Tis he.

1 Mur. Stand to't.

Ban. It will be rain to night..

1 Mur. Let it come down.

Ban. Oh, treachery!

Fly, Fleance, fly, fly, fly,,

[They affault Banquo.

Thou

Thou may'ft revenge. Oh flave!

[Dies. Fleance efcapes.

3 Mur. Who did ftrike out the light? I Mur. Was't not the way?

3 Mur. There's but One down; the fon Is fled.

2 Mur. We've lost best half of our affair.

1 Mur. Well, let's away, and fay how much is done.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Room of State in

A Banquet prepar'd.

the Caftle.

Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe,

Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. At first and laft, the hearty welcome.
OU know your own degrees, fit down:

Lords. Thanks to your Majesty.

Mach. Our felf will mingle with society,

And play the humble Hoft:

Our Hoftefs keeps her State, but in best time

We will require her welcome.

[They fit.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends,

For my heart fpeaks, they're welcome.

Enter firft Murtherer.

Mach. See, they encounter thee with their hearts" thanks.

Both fides are even: here I'll fit i' th' midft;

Be large in mirth, anon we'll drink a measure

The table round

There's blood upon thy face.

[To the Murtherer, afide, at the door.

Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Mach. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.

Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut, That I did for him. Macb. Thou art the beft of cut-throats; yet he's good, That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,

Thou art the non-pareil.

Mur. Moft royal Sir,

Fleance

Fleance is 'fcap'd.

Macb. Then comes my Fit again: I had elfe been perfect;

Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;

As broad, and gen'ral, as the cafing air:

But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To faucy Doubts and Fears. But Banquo's fafe?
Mur. Ay, my good lord: fafe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The leaft a death to Nature.

Mach. Thanks for that;

There the grown ferpent lies: the worm, that's fled,
Hath Nature that in time will venom breed,

No teeth for th' prefent. Get thee gone, to morrow
We'll hear't our felves again.

Lady. My royal lord,

[Exit Murtherer.

You do not give the cheer; the feast is fold,

That is not often vouched, while 'tis making;

肃

'Tis given, with welcome. To feed, were best at home; From thence, the fawce to meat is ceremony;

Meeting were bare without it,

[The Ghoft of Banquo rises, and fits in Macbeth's place. Mach. Sweet remembrancer!

Now good digeftion wait on appetite,

And health on both!

Len. May't please your Highness fit?

Macb. Here had we now our Country's Honour roof'd, Were the grac'd perfon of our Banquo prefent,(Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness,

Than pity for mischance!)

Roffe. His abfence, Sir,

Lays blame upon his promife. Pleas't your Highness

Το

grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

[Starting

Len. Here's a place referv'd, Sir.

Mach. Where?

Len. Here, my good lord.

What is't that moves your Highness?

Mach. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my good lord?

Macb

Mach. Thou can'ft not fay, I did it: never fhake Thy goary locks at me.

Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his Highness is not well.
Lady. Sit, worthy friends, my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep feat.
The Fit is momentary, on a thought

He will again be well. If much you note him,
You fhall offend him, and extend his paffion;
Feed, and regard him not.

Are you a man?

[To Mach. afide.

Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on That, Which might appal the Devil.

Lady. O proper stuff!

This is the very Painting of your fear;

This is the air-drawn-dagger, which, you faid,
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts
(Impoftors to true fear,) would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,

Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame it self!
Why do you make fuch faces? when all's done,

You look but on a stool.

Macb. Pr'ythee, see there!

Behold! look! lo! how fay you?

[afide.

[Pointing to the Gloft. Why, what care I? if thou canst nod, fpeak too.— If Charnel-houses and our Graves must fend

Thofe, that we bury, back; our Monuments

Shall be the maws of kites.

[The Ghoft vanifes.

Lady. What? quite unmann'd in folly?
Macb. If I ftand here, I faw him..

Lady. Fie, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been fhed ere now, i'th' olden time, Ere human Statute purg'd the gen'ral weal; (15)

(15) Ere buman Statute purg'd the gentle Weal.] Thus all the Editions: but Mr. Warburton very justly advis'd, as I have reform'd the Text, gen'ral Weal.: "And it is a very fine Peri"pbrafis (lays He) to fignify, ere civil Societies were inftituted. "For the early Murders recorded in Scripture, are here alluded to: and Macbeth's apologizing for Murder from the Antiquity of the Example is very natural.”.