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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 M.

My royal lord,

You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold

[Exit Murderer.

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't please your highness sit.

[The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's

place.

Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;

Who may I rather challenge for unkindness

Than pity for mischance!

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Lays blame upon his promise. Please 't your highness
To grace us with your royal company.

Macb. The table 's full.

Len.

Macb. Where?

Here is a place reserv'd, sir.

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

highness?

Macb. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my good lord? Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me.

Ross. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well.
Lady M. Sit, worthy friends:-my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
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 appal the devil.

Lady M.

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. Prithee, 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.

Lady M.

Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.

Lady M.

[Ghost disappears.

What, quite unmann'd in folly?

Fie, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,

Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;

Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd

Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,

That, when the brains were out, the man would die,

And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.

Lady M.

My worthy lord,

Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb.

I do forget:

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down.-Give me some wine, fill full.-

I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss ;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,

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And all to all.

Lords.

Our duties, and the pledge.

Ghost rises again.

Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide

thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M.

Think of this, good peers,

But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhabit then,(42) protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!

[Ghost disappears.

Why, so;-being gone,

I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still.

Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good

meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

Macb.

Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange

Even to the disposition that I owe,

When now I think you can behold such sights,

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are (43) blanch'd with fear.

Ross.

What sights, my lord?

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and

worse;

Question enrages him: at once, good night :

Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.

Len.

Good night; and better health

Attend his majesty!

Lady M.

A kind good night to all!

[Exeunt all except Macbeth and Lady M.

Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.—What is the night?

Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which. Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person At our great bidding?

Lady M.

Did you send to him, sir?
Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send :
There's not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow
(And betimes I will) to the weird sisters:

More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.

Lady M. You lack the season of all natures, sleep. Macb. Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:

We are yet but young in deed.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. The heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting HECATE.

First Witch. Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.
Hec. Have I not reason, beldams as you are,

Saucy and overbold? How did you dare

To trade and traffic with Macbeth

In riddles and affairs of death;

And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?

And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron

Meet me i' the morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny:
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside.
I am for the air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal and a fatal end:

Great business must be wrought ere noon:
Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic sleights,
Shall raise such artificial sprites,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion:
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear

His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know security

Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

[Music and song within, "Come away, come away," &c.(4)

Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,

[Exit.

First Witch. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

again.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Forres. A room in the palace.

Enter LENNOX and another Lord.(45)

Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,

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