Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.
This supernatural soliciting2

Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion3
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated 4 heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; 5 and nothing is,

But what is not.

Ban.

Look, how our partner's rapt.

Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance

may crown me,

Without my stir.
Ban.

New honours come upon him Like our strange garments; cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use.

Macb.

Come what come may;

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Macb. Give me your favour:7-my dull brain was

wrought

With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn
The leaf to read them. -Let us toward the king.-

Think upon what hath chanc'd: and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban.

Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

Fores. A Room in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, and Attendants.

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not

Those in commission yet return'd ?

Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,8

As 'twere a careless trifle.

Dun.

There's no art,

To find the mind's construction in the face:9

He was a gentleman on whom I built

An absolute trust. - worthiest cousin!

8 Owned, possessed.

9 We cannot construe the disposition of the mind by the

lineaments of the face.

P2

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.

The sin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me: Thou art so far before,

That swiftest wing of recompense is slow

To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd; That the proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been mine! only I have left to say, More is thy due than more than all can pay.

Mach. The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing every

thing

Safe toward your love and honour.

Dun.

Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee,

And hold thee to my heart.

Ban.

The harvest is your own.
Dun.

There if I grow,

My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our estate upon

Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honour must

• Exuberant.

Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,

And bind us further to you.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for

you:

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;

So, humbly take my leave..

Dun.

My worthy Cawdor!

Mach. The prince of Cumberland! - That is a step, On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, [Aside. For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires : The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit.

Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant; And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman.

SCENE V.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's Castle.

Enter Lady MACBETH, reading a letter. Lady M. They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promis'd :-Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way: Thou would'st be great; Art not without ambition; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou would'st

highly,

That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'd'st have, great

Glamis,

That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do,

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,4

Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal. - What is your

tidings?