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King. My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, scek 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 used for

I'll be myself 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 !--Tliat is a

step, On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, [Aside. For in my way it lies. Stars, hide


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 MACBETH. King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant: 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.

(Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt.


MACBETH's Castle, at Inverness.

Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a Letter. Lady. - They met me in the day of success ; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves--air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood. rapt

in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all haild me, " Thane of Cawdor;by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be!" This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised :-Yet do I fear thy nature : It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way: Thou would'st be great ; Art not without ambition ; but without The illness should attend it. What thou would'st

highly, That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win : thou'd'st have, great

Glamis, That which cries, “ Thus thou must do, if thou have

it ;" And that, which 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 metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.

What is your tidings?

Sey. The king comes here to-night.

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

Sey. 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, He brings great news.

[Exit Sexton.
The raven himself is hoarse,
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 the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up

access and

passage to remorse ; That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake


fell purpose; nor keep pace between The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell! That


keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor Heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, “ Hold, hold !"

Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!

Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

Macb. My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.

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

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

Macb. We will speak further.

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




The Gates of Inverness Castle.
Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.



King. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses,

Ban. This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martiet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the Heaven's breath
Smells wooinglı here: no jutty frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
The air is delicate.
Enter LADY MACBETH, Seytox, and two LADIES.

King. See, see ! our honoured hostess !
The love, that follows us, sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love.

Herein I teach you, How you

shall bid Heaven yield us 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 Against those honours deep and broadl, wherewith Your majesty loals our house : For those of old, And che late dignities heap'd up to them, We rest your

hermits. King. Where's the tliane of Cawdor ? We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor : but he rides well ; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess, W: are your guest to-night.

Lady. I our servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.

King. Give me your hand;
Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.

(Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.--Exeunt.

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