Imatges de pÓgina
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Became him like the leaving it. He dy'd,
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the deareft thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's conftruction in the face:
He was a gentleman, on whom I built

An abfolute truft.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus.

O worthieft cousin!

The fin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me.

Thou art fo far before;

The swifteft wing of recompence is flow,

To overtake thee. Would, thou hadft lefs deferv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment

Might have been mine! Only I have left to say,

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More is thy due, than more than all can pay.
Mac. The fervice and the loyalty I owe,

In doing it pays itfelf. Your Highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties

Are to your throne and ftate, children and fervants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing,
'Safe toward your love and honour.

King. Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

cW. own'd for ørv'd; but Shakespeare uses them both in the fame sense. d H. reads, O my most worthy coufin. H. reads, More is thy due, eu'n more than all can pay.

C

f So all before H. who reads Shap'd for Safe; W. Fief'd; T. propofes, Fiefs; Heath, Serves; J. — in doing ho:bing, fave toward your love, &c. W. life for loves

To

To make thee full of growing. Noble Banque,
Thou haft no lefs deferv'd, nor must be known
No lefs to have done fo. Let me enfold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.

Ban. There if I grow,

The harveft is your own.

King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, feek to hide themselves
In drops of forrow. Sons, kinfmen, Thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,
We will eftablish our eftate upon
Our eldeft Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland; which honour muft,
Not * unaccompanied, inveft him only,,

k

2

But figns of nobleness, like ftars, fhall fhine
On all defervers. From hence to Inverness,

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And bind us further to you.

Mac. The reft is labour, which is not us'd for
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

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you:

Mac. The prince of Cumberland!-That is a ftep [Afide. On which I muft fall down, or else o'er-leap,

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For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not a light fee my black and deep defires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,..
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

King. True, worthy Banque; he is full fo valiant,
And in his commendations I am fed;

It is a banquet to me.

Let's after him,

Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:

It is a peerless kinsman.

LExit.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE

VII.

An apartment in Macbeth's Caftle at Inverness.

Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.

Lady. They met me in the day of fuccefs; and I have learn'd by the perfecteft report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burnt in defire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanish'd." Whiles

m H. no for Not.

W. Night for ligbe.

• H. be is full of valour, &c.

PP. and all after, Let us for Let's.

in the fo's; R. first gives the above, except the words, at Inverness, which are added by P.

t The fo's, Macbeth's wife.

↑ The 3 laft fő's, P. H. and C. omitu W. the perfected report, e. the

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I ftood rapt in the wonder of it, came miffives from the king, who all-hail'd me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, bež fore, thefe weird fifters faluted me, and referr'd me to the coming on of time, with Hail king that fhall be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my deareft partner of greatness, that thou might'ft not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewel..

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Glamis thou art, and Cawdor-and fhalt be

What thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness,

To catch the nearest way.

Art not without ambition;

Thou would'st be great; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou would'ft highly, That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false,

And yet would'ft wrongly win; thou'dft have, great Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have 2 it;

♪ And that which rather thou doft fear to do,
Than wifleft thould be undone. Hie thee bither,
That I may pour my fpirits in thine ear,

And chaftife with the valour of my tongue

All that impedes thee from the golden round,

> The 3 laft. fo's and R. all bil'd That which, if thou wouldst have it,

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Which fate and metaphyfical aid doth seem

To have thee crown'd withal.

What is your tidings?

Enter Messenger.

Mel. The king comes here to-night.

Lady. Thou 'rt mad to say it.

Is not thy mafter with him? who, were 't so,

Would have inform'd for preparation.

Mef. So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming,

One of my fellows had the speed of him;

Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

⚫ Than would make up his meffage.

Lady. Give him tending;

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That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you fpirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unfex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direft cruelty; make thick my blood,
Stop up th' accefs and paffage to remorse,
That no compunctious vifitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep

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peace between Come to my woman's breafts,

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