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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 dy'd,
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An 4/abs'lute' trust.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus.
O smy most worthy cousin!
The sin of my ingratitude ev'n now
Was heavy on me. Thou're so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompence is now,
To overtake thee. Would thou'dít less defery'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine: only I've left to say,
More is thy due, "lev'n' more than all can pay.

Macb. The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays it self. 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
? 'Shap'd tow'rd your love and honour.

King. 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, and must be known
No less to have done fo: let me enfold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.

Ban. There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
King. My plenteous joys

Wanton absolute

5 worthiest 6 than 7 Safe or Fiefs

4

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, s'kinsmen, and Tbanes,
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 mult
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness like stars shall shine
On all delervers. — Hence to Inverness, [To Macbeth.
And bind us further to you.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you ;
I'll be my self the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach,

,
So humbly take my leave.

King: My worthy Cawdor!

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, [Äfide.
For in my way it lyes. Stars, hide your fires.
Let 9'no' 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.

King. True, worthy Banquo ; he is full of valour,
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.
S S. CE N E VII.
An Apartment in Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.

Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.
THey met me in the day of ;, and I have

learn'd by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal Knowledge. When I burni in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which ibey vanißd. While I stood rapt in ibe wonder of it, came

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milsives from the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawder, by which title before these weird sisters saluted me, and ferrid me to the coming on of time, with hail, King that shala be! This have I thought good to deliver thee (my dear partner of greatness) that thou mightst not loje the dues rejoicing by being ignorant of what greatness is promis'd : bet. Lay it to thy heart, and farewel

. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor

and shalt be
What thou art promis d. Yet I fear thy nature,
It is too full o'th’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 wouldft wrongly win. Thou'dft have, great

Glamis,
That which cries, ''This thou must do if thou bave it;
And 3'that's what 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 metaphysic aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.

Enter Messenger.
What is your tidings ?

Mes. The King comes here to-night.

Lady. Thou'rt mad to fay it.
Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Mes. 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. Give him tending,

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He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,

[Exit Messenger. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, all you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to th' 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 murth’ring ministers!
Where-ever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief. Come, thick night!
And pall thee in the dunnest smoak of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark
To cry, Hold ! 'bold!

Enter Macbeth.
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! [Embracing bim.
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ign'rant present time, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

Macb. Dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady. And when goes hence ?
Macb. To-morrow, as he purposes.

Lady. Oh! never
Shall sun that morrow see.
Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange 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 serpent under't. He that's coming
Must be provided for ; and you

shall

put This night's great business into my dispatch, VOL. V.

Hh

Which

Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely fovereign sway and masterdom.

Macb. We will speak further.

Lady. Only look up clear : To alter favour, ever, is to fear. Leave all the rest to me.

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The Castle Gate. Hautboys and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donal

bain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.

"His castle hath a pleasant seat; the air

Nimbly and sweetly recommends it self
Unto our gentle senses.

Ban. This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
By his lov'd masonry, that heaven's breath
41 Smells sweet and wooingly here. No jutting frieze,
Buttrice, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have obsery'd
The air is delicate.

Enter Lady Macbeth.
King. </See ! our honour'd hostess!
The love that follows us, sometimes is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you,

6/Ihall bid Godildus for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.

Lady. All our service
In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business to contend
Againit those honours deep and broad, wherewith

Your 4. Smells wooingly S See, fee!

6 should bid god eyld

How you

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