Shakespeare's First Folio Part 561

Macb. So shall I Loue, and so I pray be you: Let your remembrance apply to Banquo, Present him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue: Vnsafe the while, that wee must laue Our Honors in these flattering streames, And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts, Disguising what they are

Lady. You must leaue this

Macb. O, full of Scorpions is my Minde, deare Wife: Thou know'st, that Banquo and his Fleans liues

Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne

Macb. There's comfort yet, they are a.s.saileable, Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne His Cloyster'd flight, ere to black Heccats summons The shard-borne Beetle, with his drowsie hums, Hath rung Nights yawning Peale, There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note

Lady. What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest Chuck, Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night, Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day, And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond, Which keepes me pale. Light thickens, And the Crow makes Wing toth' Rookie Wood: Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowse, Whiles Nights black Agents to their Prey's doe rowse.

Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still, Things bad begun, make strong themselues by ill: So prythee goe with me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter three Murtherers.

1. But who did bid thee ioyne with vs?

3. Macbeth

2. He needes not our mistrust, since he deliuers Our Offices, and what we haue to doe, To the direction iust

1. Then stand with vs: The West yet glimmers with some streakes of Day.

Now spurres the lated Traueller apace, To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approches The subiect of our Watch

3. Hearke, I heare Horses

Banquo within. Giue vs a Light there, hoa

2. Then 'tis hee: The rest, that are within the note of expectation, Alreadie are i'th' Court

1. His Horses goe about

3. Almost a mile: but he does vsually, So all men doe, from hence toth' Pallace Gate Make it their Walke.

Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.

2. A Light, a Light

3. 'Tis hee

1. Stand too't

Ban. It will be Rayne to Night

1. Let it come downe

Ban. O, Trecherie!

Flye good Fleans, flye, flye, flye, Thou may'st reuenge. O Slaue!

3. Who did strike out the Light?

1. Was't not the way?

3. There's but one downe: the Sonne is fled

2. We haue lost Best halfe of our Affaire

1. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.

Exeunt.

Scaena Quarta.

Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb. You know your owne degrees, sit downe: At first and last, the hearty welcome

Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty

Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society, And play the humble Host: Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time We will require her welcome

La. p.r.o.nounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends, For my heart speakes, they are welcome.

Enter first Murtherer.

Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st, Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face

Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.

Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him

Mac. Thou art the best o'th' Cut-throats, Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans: If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill

Mur. Most Royall Sir Fleans is scap'd

Macb. Then comes my Fit againe: I had else beene perfect; Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke, As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre: But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe?

Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a Death to Nature

Macb. Thankes for that: There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed, No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow Wee'l heare our selues againe.

Exit Murderer.

Lady. My Royall Lord, You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making: 'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home: From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony, Meeting were bare without it.

Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place.

Macb. Sweet Remembrancer: Now good digestion waite on Appet.i.te, And health on both