Lady. But in them nature's copy's not eternal,
Mach. There's comfort yet, they are affailable;
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
His cloyfter'd flight, ere to black Hecat's fummons
The fhard-born beetle with his drowfie hums
Hath rung night's yawning peel, there fhall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

Lady. What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dear chuck, 'Till thou applaud the deed: come, feeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,

And with thy bloody and invifible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,

Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to th' rooky wood:

Good things of day begin to droop and drowze,
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rowze.
Thou marvell'st at my words; but hold thee ftill;
Things bad begun, make ftrong themselves by ill:
So pr'ythee go with me.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Park, the Caftle at a diftance, Enter three Murderers.

1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us? Mur. Macbeth.

3

2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust, fince he delivers

Our offices, and what we have to do,

To the direction just.

1 Mur. Then ftand with us.

[Speaking to the first.

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day :
Now fpurs the lated traveller apace,

To gain the timely inn, and near approaches
The fubject of our watch.

3 Mur. Hark, I hear horfes.

Banquo within. Give light there, ho!
2 Mur. Then it is he the reft

That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i' th' Court.

1 Mur. His horfes go about.
3 Mur. Almost a mile:

But

But he does ufually, fo all men do,

From hence to th' palace gate make it their walk.
Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a torch.

2 Mur. A light, a light.'

3 Mur. 'Tis he.

1 Mur. Stand to't.

Ban. It will be rain to-night.

I Mur. Let it come down.

[They affault Banquo.

Ban. Oh treachery! Fly, Fleance, Ay, Ay, Ay,

Thou may'ft revenge. Oh flave! [Dies. Fleance efcapes. 3 Mur. Who did ftrike out the light?

I Mur.

Mur.

3 Is fled.

2 Mur.

1 Mur.

Was't not the way?

There's but one down; the fon

We've loft beft half of our affair.
Well, let's away, and fay how much is done.

[Exeunt.
SCENE V. A Room of State in the Caffle.
A Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth,
Roffe, Lenox, Lords and Attendants.

Mach. You know your own degrees, fit down: And first and laft, the hearty welcome,

Lords. Thanks to your Majefty.

Mach. Our felf will mingle with fociety,,

And play the humble hoft:

Our hoftefs keeps her ftate, but in best time

We will require her welcome.

[They fit.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends. For my heart speaks, they're welcome.

Enter firft Murderer.

Mach. See they encounter thee with their hearts thanks.
Both fides are even: here I'll fit i' th' midft;

Be large in mirth, anon we'll drink a measure
The table round- -There's blood upon thy face.

[To the Murderer afide at the door. Mur. 'Tis better thee without, than him within, Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My Lord, his throat is cut, I did that for him. Mecb. Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet he's good,

That

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,

Thou art the non-pareil.

Mur. Moft royal Sir,

Fleance is 'fcap'd.

Macb. Then comes my fit again: I had elfe been perfect; Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,

As broad and gen'ral as the cafing air:

But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To fawcy doubts and fears. But Banque's fafe?-
Mur. Ay, my good Lord: fafe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The leaft a death to nature.

Macb. Thanks for that;

There the grown ferpent lyes: the worm that's fled
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,

No teeth for th' prefent.

Get thee gone, to-morrow,

We'll hear thee our felves again.

Lady. My royal Lord,

[Exit Murderer.

You do not give the cheer; the feaft is cold

That is not often vouched, while 'tis making,

'Tis giv'n with welcome. To feed, were beft at home; From thence, the fawce to meat is ceremony,

Meeting were bare without it.

[The Ghoft of Banquo rifes, and fits in Macbeth's place. Macb. Sweet remembrancer !

Now good digeftion wait on appetite,

And health on both!

Len. May't please your Highness fit?

Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd perfon of our Banquo prefent

Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness,

Than pity for mischance!

Roffe. His abfence, Sir,

Lays blame upon his promife. Please't your Highness

To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here is a place referv'd, Sir.

Mach, Where?

Len. Here, my good Lord.

What is't that moves your Highness?

[Starting.

K 2

Macb

Mach. Which of you have done this?
Lords. What, my good Lord?

Mach. Thou can'ft not fay I did it never fhake
Thy goary locks at me.

Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his Highness is not well. Lady. Sit, worthy friends, my Lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth. Pray you keep feat. The fit is momentary, on a thought

He will again be well. If much you note him,

You fhall offend him, and extend his paffion;

Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? [To Macb. afide. Mach. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appall the devil.

Lady, Proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear;

This is the air-drawn dagger, which you faid
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and ftarts
(Impoftors of true fear,) would well become
A woman's ftory at a winter's fire,

Authoris'd by her grandam. Shame it felf!-
Why do you make fuch faces? when all's done
You look but on a stool.

Mach. Pr'ythee fee there!

[Afide,

Behold! look! lo! how fay you? [Pointing to the Gboft. Why, what care I? if thou canft nod, fpeak too.

If charnel-houses and our graves muft fend

Those that we bury, back; our monuments

Shall be the maws of kites.

[The Ghoft vanifbes.

Lady. What? quite unmann'd in folly ?
Mach. If I ftand here, I saw him.

Lady. Fie for fhame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i'th' olden time,

Ere human ftatute purg'd the gentle weal;

Ay, and fince too, murders have been perform'd

Too terrible for th' ear: the times have been,

That when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rife again
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our ftools; this is more ftrange
Than fuch a murder is.

Lady.

Do not mufe at me, my most worthy friends,
I have a ftrange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me.

Love and health to all!
Then I'll fit down: give me fome wine, fill full-
I drink to th' general joy of the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo whom we mifs,
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lord. Our duties, and the pledge. [The Ghoft rifes again.
Macb. Avant, and quit my fight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowlefs, thy blood is cold;
Thou haft no fpeculation in those eyes
Which thou doft glare with.

Lady. Think of this, good Peers,
But as a thing of cuftom; 'tis no other,
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Macb. What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Ruffian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcanian tiger,
Take any fhape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble. Be alive again,
And dare me to the defart with thy fword;
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible fhadow,
Unreal mock'ry, hence! Why fo,-

-be gone[The Ghoft vanishes. [The Lords rife. broke the good [meeting

I am a man again: pray you fit fill.
Lady. You have difplac'd the mirth,

With most admir'd disorder.

Macb. Can fuch things be,

And overcome us like a fummer's cloud

Without our fpecial wonder? you make me ftrange

Ev'n at the difpofition that I owe,

Now when I think you can behold fuch fights,

And keep the natural ruby of your cheek,

When mine is blanch'd with fear.

Roffe. What fights, my Lord?

K 3

Lady,