Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!-up, up, and see
The great doom's image- Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
To countenance this horror!

O Banquo! Banquo!

Enter BANQUO.

Our royal master's murder'd!

Re-enter MACBETH and LENOX.

Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality:

All is but toys renown, and grace, is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN.

Don. What is amiss?

Macb

You are, and do not know

O, by whom?

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.
Macd. Your royal father's murder'd.
Mal.
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.

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

That I did kill them.

Macd. Wherefore did you so?

[Bell rings,

Macb. Who 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 Duncan,
His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood;

And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colors 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?

Ban. Fears and scruples shake us:

In the great hand of Heaven 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.

All. Well contented.

[Exeunt all but MAL. and Dox.

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 separate 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.

[Exeunt

The King's two sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, fly to England, and Macbeth is crowned king of Scotland; but fearing the prediction of the witches, that Banquo's issue should be king, he employs "two murderers," to assassinate Banquo and his son Fleance. The consequences of guilty ambition are finely portrayed in the following scene.

Enter Lady MACBETH, and a Servant.

Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court?

Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure

For a few words.

[Exit.

Nought's had, all's spent,

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,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making?
Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died
With them they think on? Things without remedy
Should be without regard: what's done, is done.

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,
Whom we, to gain our place. have sent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie

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;
Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night.
Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you :
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;

Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue :
Unsafe the while, that we

Must lave our honors 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,
ath 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, Ti!! thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Skarf 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;

Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things bad begun, make strong themselves by ill:
So pray thee, go with me.

[Exeunt

Banquo and Fleance on their return to the Palace, are attacked by "the murderers." Bauquo is slain, but Fleance escapes.

SCENE IV.-A Room of State in the Palace. A Banquet

prepared.

Enter MACBETH, Lady MACBETH, ROSSE, LENOX, 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 my friends;

For my heart speaks they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer, to the door.

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks :-
Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i' the midst :

Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.-There's blood upon thy face.
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,

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, confin'd, 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.

Macb.

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.-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,

That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making,

[Exit Murnere:

'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 it please your highness sit?

[The Ghost of BANQUO rises, and sits in MACBETH's place, Mack. Here had we now our country's honor roof'd,

Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;

Who may
Than pity for mischance!

I rather challenge for unkindness

Rosse..

His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness

To grace us with your royal company ?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here's a place reserv'd, sir

Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my 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.

Rosse. 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. Pr'ythee, 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.

[Ghost disappears

What! quite unmann'd in folly?

Fye, for shame!

Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.

Lady M.

Mach. 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,