Len. Is 't known, who did this more than bloody deed? Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain. Len. Alas, the day! What good could they pretend? Macd. They were suborn'd: Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons, Len. 'Gainst nature still; Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up Thine own life's means.—Then 'tis most like, Macd. He is already named; and gone to Scone, To be invested. Len. Where is Duncan's body? Macd. Carried to Colmes-kill; The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, Len. Will you to Scone? Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife. Len. Well, I will thither. Macd. Well, may you see things well done there ; —adieu ! Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Palace at Fores. Enter Banquo and Fleance. 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 And set me up in hope?— [Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. But, hush; no more. Enter Macbeth, as King; Seyton, Lenox, Rosse, and Attendants. Macb. Here's our chief guest: If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all things unbecoming.— 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 For ever knit. Macb. Ride you this afternoon? Ban. Ay, my good lord. Macb. We should have else desir'd your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,) In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride? Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night, For a dark hour, or twain. Macb. Fail not our feast. Ban. My lord, I will not. Macb. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd In England, and in Ireland; not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: But of that to-morrow; When, therewithal, we shall have cause of state, Farewell. [Exeunt Banquo and Fleance. Let every man be master of his time Till seven at night: to make society The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself Till supper-time alone: while then, Heaven be with you!— [Exeunt. Sirrah, a word: Attend those men our pleasure? Sey. They are, my lord, without the palace gate. Macb. Bring them before us. To be thus, is nothing: [Exit SEYTON. But to be safely thus,—Our fears in Banquo He chid the sisters, When first they put the name of King upon me, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; Given to the common enemy of man, To make them kings. kings! The seed of Banquo Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, And champion me to the utterance!—Who's there?— Enter Seyton, with Two Officers. [Exit Seyton. Was it not yesterday we spoke together? E 1 Off. It was, so please your highness. Have you consider'd of my speeches? Your patience so predominant in your nature, 2 Off. I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world 1 Off. And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, Macb. Both of you Know, Banquo was your enemy. 1 Off. True, my lord. Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near'st of life: And though I could 2 Off. We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us, 1 Off. Though our lives Macb. Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour, at most, I will advise you where to plant yourselves; Whose absence is no less material to me 1 Off. We are resolv'd, my lord. Macb. I'll call upon you strait; abide within. [Exeunt Officers. It is concluded::--- -Banquo, thy soul's flight, If it find Heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exit. Enter Lady Macbeth, as Queen; and Seyton. Lady. Is Banquo gone from court? Sey. Ay, madam; but returns again to-night. Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leisure For a few words. Sey. Madam, I will. Lady. Nought's had, all's spent, [Exit SEYTON. Where our desire is got without content: 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy, Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy. Enter Macbeth. How now, my lord? why do you keep alone, Macb. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it, She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams, That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead, |