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Nothing afеard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
We are sent
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks ;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane !
For it is thine.
Ban. What, can the devil speak true?
Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
In borrow'd robes ?
Who was the thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin'd
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd, and provid,
Have overthrown him.
Macb. (Aside.] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor :
The greatest is behind.-[Aloud.] Thanks for your pains.-
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me.
Promis'd no less to them ?
That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence. —
Cousins, a word, I pray you.
Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.—[ Aloud.] I thank you, gentlemen. -
(Aside.] This supernatural soliciting
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 suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated 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 ; and nothing is,
But what is not.
Look, how our partner 's rapt.
Macb. [Aside.] 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. [Aside.] 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: 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.
(Aside to BANQUO.] Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.
Macb. Till then, enough.--Come, friends. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-FORES. A Room in the Palace,
Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, Lenox,
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd ?
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,
As 'twere a careless trifle.
There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face :
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.
Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.
O worthiest cousin !
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 deservid:
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.
Macb. 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 lither :
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.–Noble Banquo.
Thou 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.
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
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
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only;
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us farther to you.
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not usd for you :
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach ;
So, humbly take my leave.
My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. [Aside.] The prince of Cumberland ! that is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
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 Parquo,--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.-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 farther, 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 wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win : thou ’dst 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,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.--
Enter an Attendant.
What is your tidings ?
Atten. The king comes here to-night.
Thou 'rt mad to say it :
Is not thy master with him ? who, were 't so,
Would have inform’d for preparation.
Atten. 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 message.
Give him tending ;
He brings great news.-[Exit Attendant.] The raven himself
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th' effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, “Hold, hold !”—
Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor !
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
And when goes hence ?
Macb. To-morrow, as he purposes.
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters :—to beguile the time,