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.

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.

[Exeunt.

Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure For a few words.

Serv. Madam, I will.
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.

[Exit.

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. 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;
VOL. II.-15

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, 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

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.

SCENE III.

The same.

[Exeunt.

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 delivers 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

His horses go about.

That are within the note of expectation,
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.

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, a Servant with a torch pre

2 Mur.

3 Mur.

1 Mur. Stand to't.

ceding them.

A light, a light!

Ban. It will be rain to-night.

1 Mur.

'Tis he.

Let it come down.

[Assaults BANQUO.

Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly; Thou mayst revenge. O slave!

[Dies. FLEANCE and Servant escape.

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 filed.

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 And last, the hearty welcome.

Lords.

Thanks to your majesty.

Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,

And play the humble host.

Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,

We will require her welcome.

Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks, they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer, to the door.

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts'

thanks.

Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i'the midst:
Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.-There's blood upon thy face.
Mur. 'Tis Banquo's, then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.
Is he despatched?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Macb. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats. Yet he's good, That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil.

Mur.

Fleance is 'scaped.

Most royal sir,

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

As broad and general as the casing air:

But now, I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Mur. Ay, my good lord; safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;

The least a death to nature.

Macb.

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-morrow
We'll hear ourselves again.
[Exit Murderer.

Lady M.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold,
That is not often vouched 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.

Macb.

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.

Macb. Here had we now our country's honor roofed, Were the graced 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 highness To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len.

Macb.

Here's a place reserved, sir.

Where?

Len. Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your

highness?

Macb. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my good lord? Macb. 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?

Macb. 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,

Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!

Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
You look but on a stool.

Macb. 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.

[Ghost disappears.

What! quite unmanned in folly?

Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady M.

Fie, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere human statute purged the general weal;

Ay, and since, too, murders have been performed
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,

U