Shakespeare's First Folio Part 560

Macb. We should haue else desir'd your good aduice (Which still hath been both graue, and prosperous) In this dayes Councell: but wee'le take to morrow.

Is't farre you ride?

Ban. As farre, my Lord, as will fill vp the time 'Twixt this, and Supper. Goe not my Horse the better, I must become a borrower of the Night, For a darke houre, or twaine

Macb. Faile not our Feast

Ban. My Lord, I will not

Macb. We heare our b.l.o.o.d.y Cozens are bestow'd In England, and in Ireland, not confessing Their cruell Parricide, filling their hearers With strange inuention. But of that to morrow, When therewithall, we shall haue cause of State, Crauing vs ioyntly. Hye you to Horse: Adieu, till you returne at Night.

Goes Fleance with you?

Ban. I, my good Lord: our time does call vpon's

Macb. I wish your Horses swift, and sure of foot: And so I doe commend you to their backs.

Farwell.

Exit Banquo.

Let euery man be master of his time, Till seuen at Night, to make societie The sweeter welcome: We will keepe our selfe till Supper time alone: While then, G.o.d be with you.

Exeunt. Lords.

Sirrha, a word with you: Attend those men Our pleasure?

Seruant. They are, my Lord, without the Pallace Gate

Macb. Bring them before vs.

Exit Seruant.

To be thus, is nothing, but to be safely thus Our feares in Banquo sticke deepe, And in his Royaltie of Nature reignes that Which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares, And to that dauntlesse temper of his Minde, He hath a Wisdome, that doth guide his Valour, To act in safetie. There is none but he, Whose being I doe feare: and vnder him, My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said Mark Anthonies was by Caesar. He chid the Sisters, When first they put the Name of King vpon me, And bad them speake to him. Then Prophet-like, They hayl'd him Father to a Line of Kings.

Vpon my Head they plac'd a fruitlesse Crowne, And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe, Thence to be wrencht with an vnlineall Hand, No Sonne of mine succeeding: if't be so, For Banquo's Issue haue I fil'd my Minde, For them, the gracious Duncan haue I murther'd, Put Rancours in the Vessell of my Peace Onely for them, and mine eternall Iewell Giuen to the common Enemie of Man, To make them Kings, the Seedes of Banquo Kings.

Rather then so, come Fate into the Lyst, And champion me to th' vtterance.

Who's there?

Enter Seruant, and two Murtherers.

Now goe to the Doore, and stay there till we call.

Exit Seruant.

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

Murth. It was, so please your Highnesse

Macb. Well then, Now haue you consider'd of my speeches: Know, that it was he, in the times past, Which held you so vnder fortune, Which you thought had been our innocent selfe.

This I made good to you, in our last conference, Past in probation with you: How you were borne in hand, how crost: The Instruments: who wrought with them: And all things else, that might To halfe a Soule, and to a Notion craz'd, Say, Thus did Banquo

1.Murth. You made it knowne to vs

Macb. I did so: And went further, which is now Our point of second meeting.

Doe you finde your patience so predominant, In your nature, that you can let this goe?

Are you so Gospell'd, to pray for this good man, And for his Issue, whose heauie hand Hath bow'd you to the Graue, and begger'd Yours for euer?

1.Murth. We are men, my Liege

Macb. I, in the Catalogue ye goe for men, As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mungrels, Spaniels, Curres, Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolues are clipt All by the Name of Dogges: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The House-keeper, the Hunter, euery one According to the gift, which bounteous Nature Hath in him clos'd: whereby he does receiue Particular addition, from the Bill, That writes them all alike: and so of men.

Now, if you haue a station in the file, Not i'th' worst ranke of Manhood, say't, And I will put that Businesse in your Bosomes, Whose execution takes your Enemie off, Grapples you to the heart; and loue of vs, Who weare our Health but sickly in his Life, Which in his Death were perfect

2.Murth. I am one, my Liege, Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the World Hath so incens'd, that I am recklesse what I doe, To spight the World

1.Murth. And I another, So wearie with Disasters, tugg'd with Fortune, That I would set my Life on any Chance, To mend it, or be rid on't

Macb. Both of you know Banquo was your Enemie

Murth. True, my Lord

Macb. So is he mine: and in such b.l.o.o.d.y distance, That euery minute of his being, thrusts Against my neer'st of Life: and though I could With bare-fac'd power sweepe him from my sight, And bid my will auouch it; yet I must not, For certaine friends that are both his, and mine, Whose loues I may not drop, but wayle his fall, Who I my selfe struck downe: and thence it is, That I to your a.s.sistance doe make loue, Masking the Businesse from the common Eye, For sundry weightie Reasons

2.Murth. We shall, my Lord, Performe what you command vs

1.Murth. Though our Liues- Macb. Your Spirits shine through you.

Within this houre, at most, I will aduise you where to plant your selues, Acquaint you with the perfect Spy o'th' time, The moment on't, for't must be done to Night, And something from the Pallace: alwayes thought, That I require a clearenesse; and with him, To leaue no Rubs nor Botches in the Worke: Fleans , his Sonne, that keepes him companie, Whose absence is no lesse materiall to me, Then is his Fathers, must embrace the fate Of that darke houre: resolue your selues apart, Ile come to you anon

Murth. We are resolu'd, my Lord

Macb. Ile call vpon you straight: abide within, It is concluded: Banquo, thy Soules flight, If it finde Heauen, must finde it out to Night.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Macbeths Lady, and a Seruant.

Lady. Is Banquo gone from Court?

Seruant. I, Madame, but returnes againe to Night

Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leysure, For a few words

Seruant. Madame, I will.

Enter.

Lady. Nought's had, all's spent.

Where our desire is got without content: 'Tis safer, to be that which we destroy, Then by destruction dwell in doubtfull ioy.

Enter Macbeth.

How now, my Lord, why doe you keepe alone?

Of sorryest Fancies your Companions making, Vsing those Thoughts, which should indeed haue dy'd With them they thinke on: things without all remedie Should be without regard: what's done, is done

Macb. We haue scorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it: Shee'le close, and be her selfe, whilest our poore Mallice Remaines in danger of her former Tooth.

But let the frame of things dis-ioynt, Both the Worlds suffer, Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe In the affliction of these terrible Dreames, That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace, Then on the torture of the Minde to lye In restlesse extasie.

Duncane is in his Graue: After Lifes fitfull Feuer, he sleepes well, Treason ha's done his worst: nor Steele, nor Poyson, Mallice domestique, forraine Leuie, nothing, Can touch him further

Lady. Come on: Gentle my Lord, sleeke o're your rugged Lookes, Be bright and Iouiall among your Guests to Night