In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further. LADY M. Come on; Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, And make our faces vizards to our hearts, Disguising what they are. LADY M. You must leave this. MACB. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. LADY M. But in them nature's copy's not eterne. MACB. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note. LADY M. What's to be done? MACB. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; SCENE III. A park near the palace. Enter three Murderers. FIRST MUR. But who did bid thee join with us? THIRD MUR. Macbeth. SEC. MUR. He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just. FIRST MUR. Then stand with us. The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch. THIRD MUR. Hark! I hear horses. Then 'tis he: the rest BAN. [Within] Give us a light there, ho! SEC. MUR. That are within the note of expectation FIRST MUR. His horses go about, THIRD MUR. Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate BAN. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge. O slave! [Dies. FLEANCE escapes. THIRD MUR. Who did strike out the light? FIRST MUR. Was 't not the way? THIRD MUR. There's but one down; the son is fled. SEC. MUR. Best half of our affair. We have lost how much [Exeunt. FIRST MUR. Well, let's away, and say is done. SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants. MACB. You know your own degrees; sit down: at first And last the hearty welcome. LORDS. Thanks to your majesty MACB. Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time We will require her welcome. LADY M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome. First Murderer appears at the door. MACB. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst : MUR. 'Tis Banquo's then. MACB. '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 best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, MUR. Fleance is 'scaped. Most royal sir, MACB. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casing air: But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? MUR. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature. МАСВ. Thanks for that: There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, No teeth for the present. morrow We'll hear, ourselves, again. LADY M. Get thee gone: to [Exit Murderer. My royal lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold 'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it. МАСВ. Sweet remembrancer! Now, good digestion wait on appetite, LEN. May't please your highness sit. [The Ghost of Banquo enters, and sits in MACBETH's place. MACB. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the graced person of our Banquo present; Who may I rather challenge for unkindness Than pity for mischance! |