Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus. O worthiest Coutin! The fin of my ingratitude e'en now King. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour Ban. There if I grow, King. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, feek to hide themselves Our eldest Malcolm, whom we name hereafter Not accompanied, invest him only; And bind us further to you. [you; Mach. The Rest is Labour, which is not us'd for * Safe toward your love and honour.) Shoul be read thus, Fief'd tow'rd your life and honour. i. e. their Duties being Fiefd, or engaged to the fupport of, as feudal Tenants to their Lord. S T'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful King. My worthy Cawdor! Mach. The Prince of Cumberland!--that is a step, And in his commendations I am fed; SCENE [Flourish. Exeunt. VII. Changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's Castle, at Inverness. Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter. Lady. THEY met me in the day of fuccefs; and I have learn'd by the perfected report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burnt in defire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanish'd. While I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came Missives from the King, who all-hail'd me, Thane of › Cawdor; by which title, before, these weyward fisters faluted 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 might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what Greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewel. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor and shalt be What thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature; It It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness, The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries, thus thou must do, if thou have it; Enter Messenger. What is your tidings? Mes. The King comes here to night. Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it. Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Mes. So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming. Lady. Give him tending; He brings great news. The raven himself's not [Exit Mef. hoarfe, That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Th' rt Th' effect, and it. Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring mi nisters! Where-ever in your fightless substances * You wait on nature's mischief-Come, thick night! ++And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes'; Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, hold, hold! Enter Macbeth. [Embracing him. > Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! Mach. Dearest love, Duncan comes here to night. Lady. And when goes hence ? Shall Sun that morrow fee! 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 flower, But he the ferpent under't. He, that's coming, Macb. We will fpeak further. Lady. Only look up clear: To alter favour, ever, is to fear. Leave all the rest to me. [Exeunt. * You wait on nature's mischief-] Nature, for Human. + And pall thee] i. e. wrap thyself in a Pall. SCENE T SCENE VIII. Before Macbeth's Castle-Gate. Hautboys and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Roffe, Angus, and Attendants. HIS Castle hath a pleasant feat; the air Unto our general sense. Ban. This guest of fummer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his lov'd Mansionry that heaven's breath Smells wooingly here. No jutting frieze, Buttrice, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle: Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, The air is delicate. Enter Lady. King. See, see! our honour'd Hostess ! The love that follows us, sometimes is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, * How you should bid god-yeld us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. Lady. All our fervice (In every point twice done, and then done double,) King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor? * How you should bid god-yeld us-] To bid any one god-yeld him, i. e. god-yield him, was the fame as God reward him. To's |