The least a death to nature.

Mac.

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-mor

row

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.

Mac.

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.

Mac. 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 high

ness

To grace us with your royal company?

Mac. The table's full.

Len.

Mac. Where?

Here is a place reserv'd, sir.

E

Len.

Here, my lord. What is't that

moves your highness?

Mac. Which of you have done this?

Lords.

What, my good lord? Mac. 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?
Mac. 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.

Why do you make such faces?

You look but on a stool.

Shame itself!

When all's done,

Mac. 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.

What! quite unmann'd in folly?

Mac. If I stand here, I saw him.

Lady M.

Fie, for shame! Mac. 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, That, when the brains were out, the man would

die,

And there an end: but now, they rise again,

With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: This is more strange
Than such a murder is.

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to

all;

Then I'll sit down:

full:

Give me some wine, fill

I drink to the general joy of the whole table,

Ghost rises.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss ;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

•Lords.

Our duties, and the pledge.

Mac. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth

hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M.

Think of this, good peers,

But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Mac. What man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
[Ghost disappears.
Unreal mockery, hence!-Why, so;-being gone,
I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still.

Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

Mac.

Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange

Even to the disposition that I owe,

When now I think you can behold such sights,

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse.

What sights, my lord?

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse

and worse;

Question enrages him: at once, good night:-
Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.

Len.

Good night, and better health

Attend his majesty!
Lady M.

A kind good night to all!

[Exeunt Lords, and Attendants.

Mac. It will have blood; they say, blood will

have blood:

Stones have been known to move, and trees to

speak;

Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought

forth

The secret'st man of blood.—What is the night? Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Mac. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person,

At our great bidding?

Lady M.

Did you send to him, sir?

Mac. I hear it by the way; but I will send:
There's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(Betimes I will,) unto the weird sisters:

More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good,
All causes shall give way; I am in blood
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.

Lady M. You lack the season of all natures,

sleep.