That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it, or be rid on't.

Macb.

Both of you

True, my lord.

Know, Banquo was your enemy.

2 Mur.

Macb. 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 barefaced 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,
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 lives

Macb. 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.

2 Mur.
We are resolved, 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.

[Exeunt.

1 i. e. the exact time when you may look out or lie in wait for him. 2 "Always remembering that I must stand clear of suspicion."

SCENE II. The same.

Another Room.

Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant.

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. Madam, I will.
Lady M.

[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 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.

Macb. We have scotched 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 ecstasy.3 Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well.

Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,

1 Sorriest, most melancholy.

2 The first folio reads peace; the second folio place.

3 Ecstasy, in its general sense, signifies any violent emotion or alienation of the mind. The old dictionaries render it a trance, a dampe, a crampe.

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
Among your guests to-night.

Macb.

So shall I, love;

And so, I pray, be you. Let
your remembrance
Apply to Banquo: present him eminence, both
With eye and tongue: unsafe, the while, that we
Must lave our honors in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
Lady M.

You must leave this.
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.
Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
His cloistered flight; ere, to black Hecate's summons,
The shard-borne beetle,3 with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.
Lady M.

What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest

chuck,

Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;

And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel and tear to pieces that

great bond

1 Present him eminence, do him the highest honor.

2 Ritson has observed, that "Nature's copy" alludes to copyhold tenure, in which the tenant holds an estate for life, having nothing but the copy of the rolls of his lord's court to show for it. A lifehold tenure may well be said to be not eternal. The subsequent speech of Macbeth, in which he says,

"Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,"

confirms this explanation. Many of Shakspeare's allusions are to legal

customs.

3 That is, the beetle borne along the air by its shards or scaly wings. Steevens had the merit of first showing that shard or sherd was the ancient word for a scale or outward covering, a case or sheath.

4 i. e. blinding: to seel up the eyes of a hawk was to close them by sewing the eyelids together.

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 preys 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.

3 Mur.

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

Hark! I hear horses.

Then it is he; the rest

His horses go about.

That are within the note of expectation,1
Already are i' the court.

1 Mur.

3 Mur. Almost a mile; but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk.

1 i. e. they who are set down in the list of guests, and expected to supper.

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, a Servant with a torch

preceding them.

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

fly;

Thou mayst revenge. O slave!

[Dies. FLEANCE and Servant escape.1

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 done.

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 2

And last, the hearty welcome.

Lords.

Thanks to your majesty. Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,

And play the humble host.

1 Fleance, after the assassination of his father, fled into Wales, where, by the daughter of the prince of that country, he had a son named Walter, who afterwards became lord high steward of Scotland, and from thence assumed the name of sir Walter Steward. From him, in a direct line, king James I. was descended; in compliment to whom, Shakspeare has chosen to describe Banquo, who was equally concerned with Macbeth in the murder of Duncan, as innocent of that crime.

2 "At first and last." Johnson, with great plausibility, proposes to read, "To first and last."