Or have we eaten of the infane root, Macb. Your children fhall be Kings. Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, To give thee, from our royal Master, thanks; Not pay thee. Roffe. And for an earneft of a greater honour, Ban. What, can the Devil fpeak true? and have a Quality of laying to Sleep; or of driving into Madness, if a more than ordinary Quantity of them be taken. This Paffage of Boethius, I dare fay, our Poet had an Eye to: and, Ithink, it fairly accounts for his Mention of the insane Root. Combin'd Combin'd with Norway, or did line the Rebel Macb. Glamis and Thane of Cawdor! [Afide. [To Angus. Do you not hope, your children shall be Kings? [To Banquo. When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me, Ban. That, trufted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the Crown, In deepest confequence. Coufins, a word, I pray you. Macb. Two truths are told, [To Roffe and Angus. [Afide. As happy prologues to the fwelling act Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen This fupernatural Solliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill, Why hath it giv'n me earneft of fuccefs, (7) prefent Fears Are Are less than horrible Imaginings.] Macbeth, while he is projecting the Murther, which he afterwards puts in Execution, is thrown into the most agonizing Affright at the Profpect of it: which foon recovering from, thus he reafons on the Nature of his Disorder. But Imaginings are so far from being more or lefs than prefent Fears, that they are the fame Things under different Words, Shakespeare certainly wrote; --prefens Are lefs than horrible imaginings. My thought, whofe murther 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, [Afide. Like our ftrange garments cleave not to their mould, *Macb. Come what come may, Time and the hour runs thro' the rougheft day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we ftay upon your leifure. Macb. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought With things forgot. Kind gentlemen, your pains The leaf to read them- -Let us tow'rd the King; Ban. Very gladly. Macb. 'Till then, enough: come, friends. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Palace. Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, King I and attendants. S execution done on Cawdor yet ? Or not those in commiffion yet return'd? -prefent Feats Are less than horrible Imaginings. i. e. When I come to execute this Murther, I ball find it much lefs dreadful than my frighted Imagination now presents it to me. A confideration drawn from the Nature of the Imagination. Mr. Warburton. Mal. Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke King. There's no art, To find the mind's conftruction in the face: Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus. O worthiest Coufin! The fin of my ingratitude e'en now Was heavy on me. Thou'rt fo far before, To overtake thee. 'Would, thou'dst less deserv'd, Are to your Throne, and State, children and fervants Which do but what they fhould, by doing every thing Safe tow'rd your love and honour. King. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour Ban. There if I grow, The harveft is your own. Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of forrow. Sons, kinfmen, Thanes, Our eldest Malcolm, whom we name hereafter But figns of Nobleness, like ftars, shall shine On all defervers. Hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you. Macb. The Reft is Labour, which is not us'd for you; I'll be my felf the harbinger, and make joyful The Hearing of my wife with your approach; King. My worthy Cawdor! Macb. The Prince of Cumberland! a step, that is On which I must fall down, or elfe o'er-leap, [Afidë. [Exit. King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full fo valiant; And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, Whofe care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless Kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's Caftle, at Inverness. Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter. Lady. T HEY met me in the day of fuccefs; and I have learn'd by the perfecteft report, they bave more in them than mortal knowledge. When 1. burnt in defire to question them further, they made themfelves air, into which they vanish'd. While I flood rapt in the wonder of it, came Miffives from the King, who all hail'd me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, |