Forres. A Room in the Palace. |
|
Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, 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, |
As 'twere a careless trifle. |
Dun. 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, ROSS 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 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 everything |
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 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. [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 Banquo; he is full so valiant, |
And in his commendations I am fed; |
It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, |
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: |
It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt. |
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