Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them :-Whither are they vanish'd ? Macb. Into the air; and what feem'd corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid! Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do speak about ? Or have we eaten of the infane root, That takes the reason prisoner? Mach. Your children shall be kings. Ban. You fhall be king. Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so ? Enter ROSSE, and ANGUS. Roffe. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine, or his : Silenc'd with that, He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks, We are fent, Ang. s; Roffe. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor; In which addition, hail, moft worthy thane! For it is thine. Ban. What, can the devil speak true? B 4 Macb, Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes ? Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgement bears that life Macb. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: Ban. That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Befides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis ftrange : Coufins, a word, I pray you. Macb. Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.- Cannot be ill; cannot be good :—If ill, ́ Are Are less than horrible imaginings : My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, But what is not. Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my ftir. Ban. New honours come upon him Like our strange garments; cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use. Macb. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king.- Our free hearts each to other. Ban. Very gladly. Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends. SCENE IV. Fores. A Room in the Palace. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, and Attendants. Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Thofe in commiffion yet return'd ? Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke Dun. There's no art, To find the mind's conftruction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An abfolute truft.-O worthiest cousin! Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS. The fin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me: Thou art fo far before, To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deferv'd; Are to your throne and state, children, and fervants; Dun. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour |