Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine. Ban. What, can the devil speak true? Mac. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes? Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was Combin'd with Norway; or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage; or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd, Have overthrown him. Mac. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no less to them? Ban. Might yet That, trusted home, enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you. Mac. Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen. This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-If ill, My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, But what is not. Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. Mac. If chance will have me king, why, chance Mac. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Mac. Give me your favour:-my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king.- Ban. Very gladly. Mac. Till then, enough.-Come, friends. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. FORES. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and Attendants. Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd? Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke With one that saw him die: who did report, That very frankly he confess'd his treasons; Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth A deep repentance: nothing in his life Became him, like the leaving it; he died As one that hath been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, As 'twere a careless trifle. Dun. There's no art, To find the mind's construction in the face: Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus. The sin of my ingratitude even now To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd; Might have been mine! only I have left to say, Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; thing Safe toward your love and honour. Dun. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo, That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known No less to have done so, let me infold thee, And hold thee to my heart. Ban. The harvest is your own. Dun. There if I grow, My plenteous joys, Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine Mac. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you: I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So, humbly take my leave. My worthy Cawdor! Mac. The prince of Cumberland!-That is a step, On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! [Aside. [Exit. Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so va liant; And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE V. INVERNESS. A ROOM IN MACBETH'S CASTLE. Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter. Lady M.-They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burn'd in desire to question them further, they made themselves -air, into which they vanish'd. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who allhail'd me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to the |