MACB. Who can be wife, amaz'd, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:

The expedition of my violent love

Out-ran the pauser reafon.-Here lay Duncan,
His filver skin lac'd with his golden blood;

And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wafteful entrance: there the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart,
Courage, to make his love known?

LADY M. Help me hence, ho!
MACD. Look to the lady.

MAL. Why do we hold our tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours?
DON. What should be spoken here,

Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,
May rush, and feize us? Let's away; our tears
Are not yet brew'd.

MAL. Nor our ftrong forrow on

The foot of motion.

BAN. Look to the lady :

[Lady MACBETH is carried out.

And when we have our naked frailties hid,

That suffer in exposure, let us meet,

And question this moft bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and fcruples fhake us :
In the great hand of God I ftand; and, thence,
Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight

Of treasonous malice.

MACB. And fo do I.

ALL. So all.

MACB. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i'the hall together.

ALL. Well contented.

[Exeunt all but MAL. and DON.

MAL. What will you do? Let's not confort with them:

To fhow an unfelt forrow, is an office

Which the falfe man does eafy: I'll to England.

DON. To Ireland, I; our feparated fortune

Shall keep us both the fafer: where we are,
There's daggers in men's fmiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody.

MAL. This murderous fhaft that's fhot,
Hath not yet lighted; and our fafest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Without the Caftle.

Enter RossE, and an OLD MAN.

OLD M. Threefcore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time, I have seen

Hours dreadful, and things ftrange; but this fore night Hath trifled former knowings.

ROSSE. Ah, good father,

Thou fee'ft, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody ftage: by the clock, 'tis day,
And yet dark night ftrangles the travelling lamp:
Is it night's predominance, or the day's fhame,
That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light fhould kiss it?

OLD M. 'Tis unnatural,

Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday laft,
A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,

Was by a moufing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd.

ROSSE. And Duncan's horses, (a thing moft ftrange and certain,)

Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their ftalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
War with mankind.

OLD M. 'Tis faid, they eat each other.

eyes,

ROSSE. They did fo; to the amazement of mine That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:. Enter MACDUFF.

How goes the world, fir, now?

MACD. Why, fee you not?

[deed?

ROSSE. Is't known, who did this more than bloody

MACD. Those that Macbeth hath flain.

ROSSE. Alas, the day!

What good could they pretend?

MACD. They were fuborn'd:

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two fons,

Are ftol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Sufpicion of the deed.

ROSSE. 'Gainst nature ftill :

Thriftlefs ambition, that wilt ravin up

Thine own life's means !-Then 'tis moft like,
The fovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

MACD. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone,
To be invefted.

ROSSE. Where is Duncan's body?
MACD. Carried to Colmes-kill;

The facred storehouse of his predeceffors,

And guardian of their bones.

ROSSE. Will you to Scone?

MACD. No, coufin, I'll to Fife.

ROSSE. Well, I will thither.

MACD. Well, may you fee things well done there ;

adieu!

Left our old robes fit easier than our new!

ROSSE. Father, farewell.

OLD M. God's benison

go with you; and with thofe

That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Fores. A Room in the Palace.
Enter BAN QUO.

BAN. Thou haft it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,

Thou play'dft most foully for't: yet it was said,
It should not stand in thy pofterity;

But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them,
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,

And fet me up in hope? But, hush; no more.

Senet founded. Enter MACBETH, as King; Lady MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, ROSSE, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.

MACB. Here's our chief gueft.

LADY M. If he had been forgotten,

It had been as a gap in our great feast,

And all-thing unbecoming.

MACB. To-night we hold a folemn fupper, fir,

And I'll request your presence.,

BAN. Let your highness

VOL. III.

C

Command upon me; to the which, my duties

Are with a moft indiffoluble tie

For ever knit.

MACB. Ride you this afternoon?

BAN. Ay, my good lord.

MACB. We should have else defir'd your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and profperous,) In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride?

BAN. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and fupper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night,

For a dark hour, or twain.

MACB. Fail not our feast.

BAN. My lord, I will not.

MACB. We hear, our bloody coufins are beftow'd In England, and in Ireland; not confeffing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention: But of that to-morrow; When, therewithal, we fhall have cause of ftate, Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: Adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? BAN. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon us. MACB. I wish your horses swift, and fure of foot; And fo I do commend you to their backs.

Farewell..

Let every man be mafter of his time

Till feven at night; to make fociety

The fweeter welcome, we will keep ourself

[Exit BANQUO.

Till fupper-time alone: while then, God be with you. [Exeunt Lady MACBETH, Lords, Ladies, &c.

Sirrah, a word: Attend thofe men our pleasure?

ATTEN. They are, my lord, without the palace gate.