Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night 38, 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 drowze; 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, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt,

SCENE III.

The Same. A Park or Lawn, with a Gate leading to the Palace.

Enter three Murderers.

1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us?

3 Mur.

Macbeth.

2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust; since he de

livers

Our offices, and what we have to do,

To the direction just.

1 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.

Ban. [within.] Give us a light there, ho! 2 Mur.

Then it is he; the rest

That are within the note of expectation,

Already are i'the court.

1 Mur.

His horses go about.

3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually,

So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
Make it their walk.

Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE; a Servant with a torch

Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly;

Thou may'st revenge. O slave!

[Dies. Fleance and Servant escape.

3 Mur. Who did strike out the light?

1 Mur.

Was't not the way?

3 Mur. There's but one down; the son is fled.

2 Mur. We have lost best half of our affair.

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

[Exeunt.

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 39.
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.

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 despatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Mach. Thou art the best o'the cut-throats: Yet he's

good,

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,

Thou art the nonpareil.
Mur.

Fleance is 'scap'd.

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, 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.

[Exit Murderer.

My royal lord,

You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold,

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 it 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!

Rosse.

His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness

To grace us with your royal company?

Lords.

What, my good lord?

moves your highness ?

Mach. Which of you have done this?

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,