Imatges de pàgina
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Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night 98,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;

And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel, and tear to pieces, that great bond

Which keeps me pale!--Light thickens; and the crow
Makes wing to the rooky wood :

Good things of day begin to droop and drowze;
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill :
So, pr'ythee, go with me.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Same. A Park or Lawn, with a Gate leading to the Palace.

Enter three Murderers.

1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us?

3 Mur.

Macbeth.

2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust; since he de

livers

Our offices, and what we have to do,

To the direction just.

1 Mur.

Then stand with us.

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:

Now the lated traveller apace,

spurs

To gain the timely inn; and near approaches

The subject of our watch.

3 Mur.

Hark! I hear horses.

Ban. [within.] Give us a light there, ho!

2 Mur.

Then it is he; the rest

That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'the court.

1 Mur.

His horses go about.

3 Mur. Almost a mile : but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk.

Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE; a Servant with a torch

preceding them.

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Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly;

Thou may'st revenge.-O slave!

[Dies. Fleance and Servant escape.

3 Mur. Who did strike out the light?

1 Mur.

Was't not the way?

3 Mur. There's but one down; the son is fled.

2 Mur. We have lost best half of our affair.

1 Mur. Well, let's away, and say how much is

done.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

A Room of State in the Palace.

A Banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, Lady MACBETH, ROSSE, LENOX, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. You know your own degrees, sit down: at

first,

And last, the hearty welcome 39.

Lords.

Thanks to your majesty.

Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,

And play the humble host.

Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,

We will require her welcome.

Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks, they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer, to the door.

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks :

Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i'the midst :
Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.-There's blood upon thy face.
Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.
Is he despatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Mucb. Thou art the best o'the cut-throats: Yet he's

good,

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,

Thou art the nonpareil.

Mur.

Fleance is 'scap'd.

Most royal sir,

Macb. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect;

Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;

As broad, and general, as the casing air:
But now, I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;

The least a death to nature.

Macb.

Thanks for that:

There the grown serpent lies; the worm, that's fled, Hath nature that in time will venom breed,

No teeth for the present.-Get thee

We'll hear, ourselves again.

Lady M.

gone; to-morrow

[Exit Murderer.

My royal lord,

You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold,

That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making,

"Tis given with welcome: To feed, were best at home;

From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony;

Meeting were bare without it.

Macb.

Sweet remembrancer!

Now, good digestion wait on appetite,

And health on both!

Len.

May it please your highness sit?

[The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place.

Macb, Here had we now our country's honour

roof'd,

Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness,

Than pity for mischance!

Rosse.

His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness To grace us with your royal company?

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What, my good lord?

moves your highness?

Mach. Which of you have done this?

Lords.

Macb. Thou canst not say, I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me.

Rosse. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well. Lady M. Sit, worthy friends:-my lord is often

thus,

And hath been from his youth: 'pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought

He will again be well: If much you note him,
You shall offend him, and extend his passion;

Feed, and regard him not.-Are you a man?

Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.

Lady M.

O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear:

This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,

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