To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance!
there?-

-Who's

Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers. Now to the door, and stay there till we call.

[Exit Attendant,

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
1 Mur. It was, so please your highness.
Macb.
Well then, now
Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know,
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune; which, you thought, had been
Our innocent self: this I made good to you
In our last conference; pass'd in probation2 with you,
How you were borne in hand;3 how cross'd; the in-
struments;

Who wrought with them; and all things else, that

might,

To half a soul, and a notion craz'd,

Say, Thus did Banquo.

1 Mur.

You made it known to us.

Macb. I did so; and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find

Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd,4
To
pray for that good man, and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours for ever?

Challenge me to extremities.

2 Proved. 3 Deluded.

4 Are you so obedient to the precept of the Gospel.

.

1 Mur.

We are men, my liege.

Macb. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men ; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels,

curs,

Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are cleped
All by the name of dogs: the valued file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill

That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.

2 Mur.

I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world

Have so incens'd, that I am reckless & what

I do, to spite the world.

1 Mur.

And I another,

So weary with disasters, tugg'd' with fortune,

That I would set my life on any chance,

To mend it, or be rid on't.

2 Mur.

True, my lord.

Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance,' That every minute of his being thrusts

Against my near'st of life: And though I could
With bare-fac'd power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it; yet I must not,
For certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Whom I myself struck down: and thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love;

Masking the business from the common eye,
For sundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur.

We shall, my lord,

Perform what you command us.

1 Mur.

Though our lives

Macb. Your spirits shine through you. Within
this hour, at most,

I will advise you where to plant yourselves.
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'the time,
The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
And something from the palace; always thought,
That I require a clearness: And with him,
(To leave no rubs, nor botches, in the work,)
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me

Macb. I'll call upon you straight; abide within.

It is concluded:-Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.

SCENE II.

The same.

Another Room.

་

[Exeunt.

Enter Lady MACBETH, and a Servant.

Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court?

Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure

Where our desire is got without content:

'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,

Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.

Enter МАСВЕТН.

How now, my lord? why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making?
Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died
With them they think on? Things without remedy,
Should be without regard: what's done, is done.

Macb. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it; She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth.

But let

The frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,

3 Most melancholy.

Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams,

That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In restless ecstacy.4 Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestick, foreign levy, nothing,

Can touch him further!

Lady M. Come on ;

Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night.
Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:

Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;

Present him eminence,' both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we

Must lave our honours in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,

Disguising what they are.
Lady M.

You must leave this.

Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. Lady M. But in them nature's copy's not eterne." Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund: Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's summons, The shard-borne beetle,7 with his drowsy hums,

4 Agony.

5 Do him the highest honours. i. e. The copy, the lease, by which they hold their lives from nature has its time of termination.

7 The beetle borne in the air by its shards or scaly wings.