King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?

We courft him at the Heels, and had a purpose
To be his Purveyor: But he rides well,

And his great Love, fharp as his Spur, hath holp him
To his home before us: Fair and noble Hoftefs,
We are your Gueft to Night.

Lady. Your Servants ever,

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs in compt,
To make their Audit at your Highness Pleasure,
Still to return your own.

King. Give me your Hand;

Conduct me to mine Hoft, we love him highly,
And fhall continue our Graces towards him.
By your leave, Hostess.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. An Apartment.

Hautboys, Torches. Enter divers Servants with Dishes and Service over the Stage. Then Macbeth.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the Affaffination

Could trammel up the Confequence, and catch
With his furceafe, Succefs; that but this blow
Might be the all, and be the end ofgall Here,
But here, upon this Bank and School of time
We'ld jump the Life to come. But in these Cafes,
We ftill have Judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody Inftructions, which being taught, return
To plague th'ingredience of our poifon'd Chalice
To our own Lips. He's here in double truft:
First, as I am his Kinfman, and his Subje&,
Strong both against the Deed; then, as his Hoft,
Who should against his Murtherer shut the Door,
Not bear the Knife my felf. Befides, this Duncan,
Hath born his Faculty fo meek, hath been
So clear in his great Office, that his Virtues
Will plead like Angels, Trumpet tongu❜d against
The deep Damnation of his taking off:

And Pity, like a naked New-born Babe,
Striding the Blaft, or Heav'ns Cherubin, hors'd
VOL. V

R

Upon

Upon the fightless Curriers of the Air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in every Eye,

That Tears fhall drown the Wind. I have no Spur
To prick the fides of my Intent, but only
Vaulting Ambition, which o'er-leaps it self.

And falls on th'other.

Enter Lady.

How now? What News?

Lady. He has almoft fup'd; why have you left the Chamber?
Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady. Know you not, he has ?

Mach. We will proceed no further in this Bufinefs.
He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden Opinions from all forts of People,

Which would be worn now in their new eft Glofs,
Not caft afide fo foon.

Lady. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dreft your felf? Hath it flept fince?
And wakes it now to look fo green and pale,
At what it did fo freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afraid
To be the fame in thine own A&, and Valour,
As thou art in défire? wouldít thou have that
Which thou efteem'ft the Ornament of Life,
And live a Coward in thine own Efteem?
Letting I dare not, wait upon I would,
Like the poor Cat i'th' Adage.

Macb. Prethee, Peace:

I dare do all that may become a Man;
Who dares do more is none.

Lady. What Beaft was't then,

That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durft do it, then you were a Man;
And to be more than what you were, you would
Be fo much more the Man. Nor time, nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Do's unmake you. I have given Suck, and know
How tender 'tis to love the Babe that milks me

I would, while it was fmiling in my Face,

Have pluckt my was fmiling in

Have pluckt my Nipple from his boneless Gums,

And

And dafht the Brains out, had I but fo fworn
As you have done to this.
Macb. If we should fail?
Lady. We fail!

But fcrew your Courage to the fticking Place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
(Whereto the rather fhall his day's hard Journey
Soundly invite him) his two Chamberlains
Will I with Wine and Waffel, fo convince,
That Memory, the warder of the Brain,
Shall be a Fume, and the receipt of Reason
A Limbeck only; when in fwinish fleep,
Their drenched Natures lye as in a Death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
Th'unguarded Duncan ? What, not put upon
His fpungy Officers, who fhall bear the Guilt
Of our great Quell?

Macb. Bring forth Men-Children only :
For thy undaunted Metal fhould compofe
Nothing but Males. Will it not be receiv'd,.
When we have mark'd with Blood thofe fleepy two
Of his own Chamber, and us'd their very Daggers,
That they have don't?

Lady. Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our Griefs and Clamour roar,
Upon his Death?

Macb. I am fetled, and bend up

Each corporal Agent to this terrible Feat,

Away, and mock the time with fairest show,

Falfe Face muft hide what the falfe Heart doth know.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

SCENE a Hall.

Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch before him. Ow goes the Night, Boy?

Ban.

HOW

the Clock.

Fle. The Moon is down: I have not heard

Ban. And he goes down at Twelve.

Fle. I take't 'tis later, Sir.

Ban. Hold, take my Sword; there's Husbandry in Heav'n, Their Candles are all out.

Take thee that too..

A heavy Summons lyes like Lead upon me,

And yet I would not fleep: Merciful Powers
Restrain in me the curfed Thoughts, that Nature
Gives way to in repose.

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a Torch.
Give me my Sword: Who's there?

Macb. A Friend."

Ban. What, Sir, not yet at reft? The King's a-bed,
He hath been in unufual Pleasure,

And fent forth a great Largefs to your Officers,
This Diamond he greets your Wife withal,

By the Name of moft kind Hoftefs,

And shut it up in measureless Content.
Mach. Being unprepar'd,

Our Will became the Servant to defect,
Which elfe fhould free have wrought.

Ban. All's well.

I dreamt laft Night of the three weyward Sifters;
To you they have fhew'd fome Truth.

Macb. I think not of them;

Yet when we can intreat an Hour to ferve

We would spend fome Words upon that Bufinefs,
If you would grant the time.

Ban. At your kind Leisure.

Mach. If you fhall cleave to my Confent, when 'tis, It fhall make Honour for you.

Ban. So I lofe none,

In feeking to augment it, but ftill keep

My Bolom Franchis'd, and Allegiance clear,

I fhall be counsell'd.

Macb. Good Repofe the while.
Ban. Thanks, Sir; the like to you.
Mach. Go, bid thy Miftrefs, when my
She ftrike upon the Bell. Get thee to bed.
Is this a Dagger which I fee before me,

[Exit Banquo. Drink is ready, [Exit Servant.

The Handle toward my Hand? Come let me clutch thee

I have thee not, and yet I fee thee ftill,
Art thou nor, fatal Vifion, fenfible
To feeling, as to fight? Or art thou but
A Dagger of the Mind, a falfe Creation,
Proceeding from the Heat-oppreffed Brain?
I fee thee yet, in form, as palpable
As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'ft me the way that I was going,
And fuch an Inftrument I was to use.

Mine Eyes are made the Fools o'th' other Senfes,
Or else worth all the reft- I fee thee ftill,
And on thy Blade, and Dudgeon, Gouts of Blood,
Which was not fo before. There's no fuch thing...
It is the bloody Bufinefs, which informs

This to mine Eyes. Now o'er the one half world
Nature feems dead, and wicked Dreams abufe
The Curtain'd fleep; now Witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's Offerings, and wither'd Murther,
Alarum'd by his Sentinel, the Wolf,

Whofe howl's his Watch, thus with his ftealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing fides, towards his Defign
Moves like a Ghost. Thou four and firm-fet Earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very Stones prate of my where about,
And take the prefent Horror from the time,
Which now fuits with it. Whilft I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of Deeds too cold breath gives.

I go, and it is done; the Bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a Knell,
That fummons thee to Heav'n, or to Hell.

Enter Lady.

[A Bill rings.

[Exit. (bold:

Lady. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me What hath quencht them, hath given me Fire. Hark! Peace! It was the Owl that thriek'd, the fatal Bell-Man,

Which gives the ftern'ft good Night--he is about it----The Doors are open; and the furfeited Grooms

Do mock their Charge with Snores, I have drugg'd their Poffets,