The greatest is behind. 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?
Ban. .

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.
Macb.

Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.- I thank you, gentlemen.-
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 surmisel; and nothing is,
But what is not.
Ban.

Look, how our partner's rapt. Macb. 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.

Come what come may ;

Time and the hour* runs through the roughest day.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your lei

sure.

Macb. Give me your favourť :-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.Think upon what hath chanc'd: and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. Ban.

Very gladly. Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Fores. A room in the palace,

Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain,

Lenox, and attendants. Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor ? Are not Those in commission yet return’d? Mal.

My liege, 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 I, As 'twere a careless trifle. Dun.

There's no art, To find the mind's construction in the faces:

He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.-- () worthiest cousin !

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
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 deserv'd;
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 hither :
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.
Ban.

There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
Dun.

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 further to you.

Macb. The rest 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!
Macb. The prince of Cumberland !-That is a

step, On which I must fall down, or else o’erleap,

(Aside. For in my way it lies. Stars, hides 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 Banquo; 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. [Flourish. Exeunt.

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 reportt, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves

into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missivest 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.

# Full as valiant as described. + The best intelligence.

Messengers.

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 would'st be great;
Art not without anıbition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st

highly, That would’st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win: thou’d’st have

great Glamis, That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have

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 metaphysicalt aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.--What is your tidings?

Enter an Attendant.
Attend. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M.

Thou’rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him ? who, wer't so,
Would have inform’d for preparation.
Attend. 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.
Lady M.

Give him tending, He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,

[Exit Attendant. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughtsf, unsex 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 passage to remorses ;