In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence Against the undivulged pretence I fight

Of treasonous malice.

Macd.

All.

And so do I.

So all.

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

All.

Well contented.

[Exeunt all but MALCOLM and DONALBAIN.

Mal. What will you do?

with them :

Let's not consort

To show an unfelt sorrow is an office

Which the false man does easy: I'll to England. Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,

The nearer bloody.

Mal. This murderous shaft that's shot Hath not yet lighted; and our safest 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 Castle.

Enter ROSSE and an old Man.

Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember well:

Within the volume of which time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night

Hath trifled former knowings.

Rosse.

Ah, good father,

Thou see'st, the heavens, as troubled with man's

act,

Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,

And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, That darkness does the face of earth intomb, When living light should kiss it?

Old M. 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday

last,

A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Rosse. And Duncan's horses, (a thing most
strange and certain,)

Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,

Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with mankind.

Old M.

'Tis said, they eat each other. Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,

That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons, Are stolen away and fled; which puts upon them Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse.

'Gainst nature still :

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up

Thine own life's means !-Then 'tis most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already named; and gone to
Scone

To be invested.

Rosse.

Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colmes-kill;

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,

And guardian of their bones.

Rosse.

Will you to Scone?

Well, I will thither.

Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.

Rosse.

Macd. Well, may you see things well done there:-adieu!

Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Rosse. Farewell, father.

Old. M. God's benison go with you, and with

those

That would make good of bad, and friends of

foes!

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Enter BANQUO.

Banquo.

HOU hast it now, King, Cawdor,
Glamis, all,

As the weird women promised; and
I fear

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

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 set me up in hope? But hush; no more.

Senet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as King; LADY MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, ROSSE, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.

Mach. Here's our chief guest.

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 solemn supper, sir,

And I'll request your presence.

Ban.

Let your highness

Command upon me; to the which, my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie

For ever knit.

Mach. Ride you this afternoon?
Ban.

Ay, my good lord.

Macb. We should have else desired your good

advice

(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous)

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 supper: go not my horse the

better,

I must become a borrower of the night,

For a dark hour, or twain.

Macb.

Ban. My lord, I will not.

Fail not our feast.

Mach. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd

In England, and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers

With strange invention. But of that to-morrow;
When, therewithal, we shall have cause of

state,

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 sure of

foot;

And so I do commend you to their backs.

Farewell.

[Exit BANQUO.

Let every man be master of his time

Tell seven at night; to make society

The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you.

[Exeunt LADY MACBETH, Lords, Ladies, &c. Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men our

pleasure?