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Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
I am one, my liege,
And I another,
Both of you
True, my lord. Mac. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near’st of life: And though I could With bare-fac'd power sweep him from my sight, And bid my will avouch it; yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Whom I myself struck down: and thence it is,
was your enem
That I to your assistance do make love;
We shall, my lord,
Though our lives, Muc. Your spirits shine through you. Within
this hour, at most, I will advise you where to plant yourselves. Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’the time, The moment on't; for’t must be done to-night, And something from the palace; always thought, That I require a clearness: And with him, (To leave no rubs, nor botches, in the work,) Fleance his son, that keeps him company, Whose absence is no less material to me Than is his father's, must embrace the fate Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart; I'll come to you anon. Mur.
We are resolv’d, my lord. Mac. I'll call upon you straight; abide within. . It is concluded:-—Banquo, thy soul's flight, If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.
u an ON
THE SAME. ANOTHER ROOM.
Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.
Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his
[Erit. Lady M.
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.
Mac. We have scotch'd the snake, not killed 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 ecstacy. Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestick, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further!
Lady M. Come on;
Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
Mac. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:
You must leave this.
Lady M. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
Mac. There's comfort yet, they are assailable;
What's to be done?
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.
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?
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. 3 Mur.
Hark! I hear horses. 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.