Macb.

Well then, now

Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know,
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune; which, you thought, had been
Our innocent self: this I made good to you
In our last conference; pass'd in probation1 with

you,

How you were borne in hand ;2 how cross'd; the

instruments;

Who wrought with them; and all things else, that

might,

To half a soul, and a notion craz'd,

Say, Thus did Banquo:
1 Mur.
Macb. I did so; "and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd,3
To pray for that good man, and for his issue,
Whose heavy' hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours for ever?

"You made it known to us.

1. Mur..

We are men, my liege.

Macb. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels,

curs,

1

"

Shoughs, 4 water-rugs, arid demi-wolves, are cleped

All by the name of dogs: the valued file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
"According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill

That writes them all alike and so of men.

Now, if you have a station in the file,

(1) Proved.

(2) Deluded.

(3) Are you so obedient to the precept of the

Gospel.

(4) Wolf-dogs.

(6) Title, description.

(5) Called.

And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it; And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off; Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but sickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect.

2 Mur.

I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what

I do, to spite the world.

1 Mur.

And I another,

So weary with disasters, tugg'd2 with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,

To mend it, or be rid on't.

Macb.

Both of you

Know, Banquo was your enemy.

2 Mur.

True, my lord.

Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody dis

tance,

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, For4 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, That I to your assistance do make love; Masking the business from the common eye, For sundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur.

Perform what you command us. 1 Mur.

We shall, my lord,

Though our livesMach. 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,

(1) Careless.

(2) Worried.

(3) Mortal enmity.

(4) Because of.

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.

2 Mur.

We are resolv'd, my lord. Macb. 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. [Exe.

SCENE II-The same. Another room. Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.

1

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.

Serv.

Lady M.

Madam, I will.

[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 sorriest1 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.1 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, 2 both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we

Must lave our honours in these flattering streams; And make our faces vizards to our hearts,

You must leave this.

Disguising what they are. Lady M. 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.3 Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund: Ere the bathath flown His cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's sum

mons,

The shard-borne beetle,4 with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.

What's to be done?

Lady M.
Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest

chuck,5

(1) Agony. (2) Do him the highest honours. (3) i. e. The copy, the lease, by which they hold their lives from nature, has its time of termination. (4) The beetle borne in the air by its shards or

scaly wings.

(5) A term of endearment.

Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling1 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, 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? 13 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.

い

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.

Then it is he; the rest

Ban. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho!

2 Mur.

That are within the note of expectation, 2

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.

(1) Binding.

(2) i. e. They who are set down in the list of guests, and expected to supper.