Forres. A Room in the Palace. |
|
Enter BANQUO. |
Ban. Thou hast it now: King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, |
As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear, |
Thou play'dst most foully for 't; yet it was said |
It should not stand in thy posterity, |
But that myself should be the root and father |
Of many kings. If there come truth from them,— |
As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,— |
Why, by the verities on thee made good, |
May they not be my oracles as well, |
And set me up in hope? But, hush! no more. |
|
Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king; LADY MACBETH, as queen; LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants. |
Macb. Here's our chief guest. |
Lady M. If he had been forgotten |
It had been as a gap in our great feast, |
And all-thing unbecoming. |
Macb. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir, |
And I'll request your presence. |
Ban. Let your highness |
Command upon me; to the which my duties |
Are with a most indissoluble tie |
For ever knit. |
Macb. Ride you this afternoon? |
Ban. Ay, my good lord. |
Macb. We should have else desir'd your good advice— |
Which still hath been both grave and prosperous— |
In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. |
Is't far you ride? |
Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time |
'Twixt this and supper; go not my horse the better, |
I must become a borrower of the night |
For a dark hour or twain. |
Macb. Fail not our feast. |
Ban. My lord, I will not. |
Macb. We hear our bloody cousins are bestow'd |
In England and in Ireland, not confessing |
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers |
With strange invention; but of that to-morrow, |
When therewithal we shall have cause of state |
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse; adieu |
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? |
Ban. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. |
Macb. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; |
And so I do commend you to their backs. |
Farewell. [Exit BANQUO. |
Let every man be master of his time |
Till seven at night; to make society |
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself |
Till supper-time alone; while then, God be with you! [Exeunt all but MACBETH and an Attendant. |
Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men |
Our pleasure? |
Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace gate. |
Macb. Bring them before us. [Exit Attendant.] To be thus is nothing; |
But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo |
Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature |
Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares, |
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, |
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour |
To act in safety. There is none but he |
Whose being I do fear; and under him |
My genius is rebuk'd, as it is said |
Mark Antony's was by Cæsar. He chid the sisters |
When first they put the name of king upon me, |
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like, |
They hail'd him father to a line of kings. |
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown, |
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, |
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, |
No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, |
For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind; |
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; |
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace |
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel |
Given to the common enemy of man, |
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! |
Rather than so, come fate into the list, |
And champion me to the utterance! Who's there? |
|
Re-Enter Attendant, with two Murderers. |
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. [Exit Attendant. |
Was it not yesterday we spoke together? |
First 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 probation with you, |
How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, the instruments, |
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might |
To half a soul and to a notion craz'd |
Say, 'Thus did Banquo.' |
First 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 |
To pray for this good man and for his issue, |
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave |
And beggar'd yours for ever? |
First 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 clept |
All by the name of dogs: the valu'd file |
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, |
The housekeeper, 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, |
Not i' 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. |
Sec. 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. |
First 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. |
Macb. Both of you |
Know Banquo was your enemy. |
Sec. 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 powersweep 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. |
Sec. Mur. We shall, my lord, |
Perform what you command us. |
First 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 |
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate |
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart; |
I'll come to you anon. |
Sec. Mur. We are resolv'd, my lord. |
Macb. I'll call upon you straight: abide within. [Exeunt Murderers. |
It is concluded: Banquo, thy soul's flight, |
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exit. |
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