Shakespeare's First Folio Part 559

Macd. Wherefore did you so?

Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious, Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man: Th' expedition of my violent Loue Out-run the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan, His Siluer skinne, lac'd with His Golden Blood, And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature, For Ruines wastfull entrance: there the Murtherers, Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine, That had a heart to loue; and in that heart, Courage, to make's loue knowne?

Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa

Macd. Looke to the Lady

Mal. Why doe we hold our tongues, That most may clayme this argument for ours?

Donal. What should be spoken here, Where our Fate hid in an augure hole, May rush, and seize vs? Let's away, Our Teares are not yet brew'd

Mal. Nor our strong Sorrow Vpon the foot of Motion

Banq. Looke to the Lady: And when we haue our naked Frailties hid, That suffer in exposure; let vs meet, And question this most b.l.o.o.d.y piece of worke, To know it further. Feares and scruples shake vs: In the great Hand of G.o.d I stand, and thence, Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight Of Treasonous Mallice

Macd. And so doe I

All. So all

Macb. Let's briefely put on manly readinesse, And meet i'th' Hall together

All. Well contented.

Exeunt.

Malc. What will you doe?

Let's not consort with them: To shew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office Which the false man do's easie.

Ile to England

Don. To Ireland, I: Our seperated fortune shall keepe vs both the safer: Where we are, there's Daggers in mens smiles; The neere in blood, the neerer b.l.o.o.d.y

Malc. This murtherous Shaft that's shot, Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way, Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horse, And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking, But s.h.i.+ft away: there's warrant in that Theft, Which steales it selfe, when there's no mercie left.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Rosse, with an Old man.

Old man. Threescore and ten I can remember well, Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night Hath trifled former knowings

Rosse. Ha, good Father, Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act, Threatens his b.l.o.o.d.y Stage: byth' Clock 'tis Day, And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe: Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame, That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe, When liuing Light should kisse it?

Old man. 'Tis vnnaturall, Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last, A Faulcon towring in her pride of place, Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd

Rosse. And Duncans Horses, (A thing most strange, and certaine) Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race, Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their stalls, flong out, Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would Make Warre with Mankinde

Old man. 'Tis said, they eate each other

Rosse. They did so: To th' amazement of mine eyes that look'd vpon't.

Enter Macduffe.

Heere comes the good Macduffe.

How goes the world Sir, now?

Macd. Why see you not?

Ross. Is't known who did this more then b.l.o.o.d.y deed?

Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slaine

Ross. Alas the day, What good could they pretend?

Macd. They were subborned, Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes Are stolne away and fled, which puts vpon them Suspition of the deed

Rosse. 'Gainst Nature still, Thriftlesse Ambition, that will rauen vp Thine owne liues meanes: Then 'tis most like, The Soueraignty will fall vpon Macbeth

Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone To be inuested

Rosse. Where is Duncans body?

Macd. Carried to Colmekill, The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors, And Guardian of their Bones

Rosse. Will you to Scone?

Macd. No Cosin, Ile to Fife

Rosse. Well, I will thither

Macd. Well may you see things wel done there: Adieu Least our old Robes sit easier then our new

Rosse. Farewell, Father

Old M. G.o.ds benyson go with you, and with those That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.

Exeunt. omnes

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Banquo.

Banq. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the weyard Women promis'd, and I feare Thou playd'st most fowly for't: yet it was saide It should not stand in thy Posterity, But that my selfe should be the Roote, and Father Of many Kings. If there come truth from them, As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches s.h.i.+ne, Why by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my Oracles as well, And set me vp in hope. But hush, no more.

Senit sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox, Rosse, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. Heere's our chiefe Guest

La. If he had beene forgotten, It had bene as a gap in our great Feast, And all-thing vnbecomming

Macb. To night we hold a solemne Supper sir, And Ile request your presence

Banq. Let your Highnesse Command vpon me, to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tye For euer knit

Macb. Ride you this afternoone?

Ban. I, my good Lord