Are to your throne and state, children, and fervants; Which do but what they fhould, 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 haft no less deserv'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 harvest is your own.

DUN. My plenteous joys,

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

Our eldeft, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not, unaccompany'd, inveft him only,
But figns of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.

MAC. The reft 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!

MAC. "The prince of Cumberland! that is a ftep,' "On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, "For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires, "Let not light fee my black and deep desires: " "The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,"

"Which the eye fears, when it is done, to fee. "

[Exit MACBETH. DUN. True, worthy Banquo; he is full fo 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's Caftle. Enter Lady MACBETH, reading.

L. M. *** **They met me in the day of fuccefs: and I have learn'd by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When 1 burnt in desire to question them further, they made themfelves air, into which they vanish'd. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came miffives from the king, who all-bail'd me, thane of Cawdor; by which title before these weird fifters faluted me, and refer'd me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that fhalt be. This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mighteft not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewel.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and fhalt 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 fhould attend it: what thou would'ft highly,
That would'st thou holily; would'ft not play falfe, [mis,
And yet would't wrongly win: thoud'ft have, great Gla-
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it ;

And that's what rather thou doft fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my fpirits 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 feem
Enter an Attendant.

To have thee crown'd withal. What is your tidings? Att. The king comes here to-night.

L. M'. Thou'rt mad to say it:

Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Att. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him;

Who, almoft dead for breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his meffage.

L. M. Give him tending,

[hoarfe,

He brings great news. [Exit Att.] The raven himself is

That croaks the fatal enterance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, all you spirits,
That tend on mortal thoughts, unfex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and paffage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring minifters,
Wherever in your fightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunneft fmoak of hell!
That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes;

And that which rather 27 and hit,

Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold ! — Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor!
Enter MACBETH.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have tranfported me beyond
This ignorant present time, and I feel now
The future in the inftant.

MAC. My dear'st love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
L. M. And when goes hence?
MAC. To-morrow, as he purposes.
L. M". O, never

Shall fun that morrow fee.

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read ftrange matters: To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower,
But be the ferpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you fhall put
This night's great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give folely fovereign sway and mafterdom.
MAC. We will speak further.

L. M. Only look up clear;

To alter favour ever is to fear:

Leave all the rest to me.

[Exeunt

SCENE VI. The fame. Before the Caftle. Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth with Torches. Enter DUNCAN, Malcolm, Donalbain, Macduff, BANQUO, Lenox, Rofs, Angus, and Attendants. DUN. This caftle hath a pleasant feat; the air

Nimbly and fweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle sense.

BAN. This guest of fummer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd manfionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutting frieze,

Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle:
Where they moft breed, and haunt, I have observ'd,
The air is delicate.

Enter Lady MACBETH.

DUN. See, fee, our honour'd hoftefs!

The love that follows us, fometime is our trouble,
Which ftill we thank as love: Herein I teach you,
How you fhall bid god-ild us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.

L. M. All our service

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and fingle business, to contend
Against those honours deep, and broad, wherewith
Your majefty loads our house: For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We reft

your hermits.

DUN. Where's the thane of Cawdor?

We courf'd him at the heels, and had a purpose

To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

And his great love, fharp as his fpur, hath holp him To his home before us : Fair and noble hostess,

We are your guest to-night.

L. Mb. Your fervants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt; To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

VOL. IV.

2 fences. 4 Barlet 6 Jutty 9 muft

X