Good things of day begin to droop and drowze,
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rowze.
Thou marvell'ft at my words; but hold thee ftill;
Things, bad begun, make strong themfelves by Ill:
So, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Park; the Cafle at a diftance.

1 Mur.

BU

Enter three Murtherers.

UT who did bid thee join with us?
3 Mur. Macbeth.

2 Mur. He needs not our Miftruft, fince he delivers Our offices, and what we have to do,)

To the direction just.

I Mur. Then ftand with us.

The weft yet glimmers with fome streaks of day:
Now fpurs the lated traveller apace,

To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The fubject of our watch.

3 Mur. Hark, I hear horfes.

Banquo within. Give us light there, ho!
2 Mur. Then it is he: the reft,

That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'th' Court.

1 Mur. His horfes go about.

3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually, (So all men do,) from hence to th' Palace-gate Make it their Walk.

Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a Torch.

2 Mur. A light, a light.

3

Mur. 'T'is he.

1 Mur. Stand to't.

Ban. It will be rain to night.

1 Mur. Let it come down. Ban. Oh, treachery! Fly, Fleance, fly, fly, fly,

[They affault Banquo.

Thou

Thou may'ft revenge. Oh flave!

[Dies. Fleance escapes.

3 Mur. Who did ftrike out the light? I Mur. Was't not the way?

3 Mur. There's but One down; the fon Is fled.

2 Mur. We've loft beft half of our affair.

1 Mur. Well, let's away, and fay how much is done.

[Excunt.

SCENE changes to a Room of State in the Caftle.

A Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Roffe, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb.

OU know your own degrees, fit down:
At first and last, the hearty welcome.

Lords. Thanks to your Majefty.

Macb. Our felf will mingle with fociety,

And play the humble Hoft:

Our Hoftefs keeps her State, but in best time

We will require her welcome.

[They fit.

Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends,

For my heart speaks, they're welcome.

Enter firft Murtherer.

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts

thanks.

Both fides are even: here I'll fit i'th' midft;

Be large in mirth, anon we'll drink a measure
The table round- There's blood upon thy face.

[To the Murtherer, afide, at the door.

Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.

Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut, That I did for him. Macb. Thou art the best of cut-throats; yet he's good, That did the like for Fleance: if thou didft it,

Thou art the non-pareil.

Mur. Moft royal Sir,

Fleance

Fleance is 'fcap'd.

Macb. Then comes my Fit again: I had elfe been perfect;

Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;

As broad, and gen'ral, as the cafing air:

But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To fawcy Doubts and Fears. But Banquo's fafe

Mar. Ay, my good lord: fafe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head ;
The leaft a death to Nature.

Macb. Thanks for that;

There the grown ferpent lies: the worm, that's fied,
Hath Nature that in time will venom breed,

No teeth for th' prefent. Get thee gone, to morrow
We'll hear 't our felves again.

Lady. My royal lord,

[Exit Murtherer.

You do not give the cheer; the feaft is fold,

That is not often vouched, while 'tis making;

"Tis given, with welcome. To feed, were beft at home; From thence, the fawce to meat is ceremony;

Meeting were bare without it.

[The Ghoft of Banquo rifes, and fits in Macbeth's place. Macb. Sweet remembrancer!

Now good digeftion wait on appetite,

And health on both!

Len. May't please your Highness fit?

Macb. Here had we now our Country's Honour roof'd,

Were the grac'd perfon of our Banquo prefent, (Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness, Than pity for mischance!)

Roffe. His abfence, Sir,

Lays blame upon his promife. Pleas't your Highness

To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here's a place referv'd, Sir.

Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my good lord.

What is't that moves your Highness ?
Macb. Which of you have done this ??
Lords. What, my good lord?

[Starting,

Macb

Macb. Thou can'ft not fay, I did it: never shake locks at me.

Thy goary

Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his Highness is not well.
Lady. Sit, worthy friends, my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep feat.
The Fit is momentary, on a thought

He will again be well. If much you note him,
You fhall offend him, and extend his paffion;
Feed, and regard him not.

Are you a man?

[To Macb. afide.

Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on That,

Which might appal the Devil.

Lady. O proper ftuff!

This is the very Painting of your fear;

This is the air-drawn-dagger, which, you faid,

Led you to Duncan.

Oh, these flaws and starts

(Impoftors to true fear,) would well become

A woman's ftory at a winter's fire,

Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame it self!
Why do you make fuch faces? when all's done,
You look but on a stool.

Mach. Pr'ythee, fee there!

Behold! look! lo! how fay you ?

[afide.

[Pointing to the Ghoft. Why, what care I? if thou canft nod, fpeak too. If Charnel-houfes and our Graves muft fend

Thofe, that we bury, back; our Monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

[The Ghoft vanishes.
Lady. What? quite unmann'd in folly ?
Macb. If I ftand here, I faw him.
Lady. Fie, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i'th' olden time, Ere human Statute purg'd the gen'ral weal; (15)

(15) Ere human Statute purg'd the gentle Weal.] Thus all the Editions: but Mr. Warburton very justly advis'd, as I have reform'd the Text, gen'ral Weal: "And it is a very fine Periphrafis (says He) to fignify, ere civil Societies were instituted. "For the early Murthers recorded in Scripture, are here al"luded to: and Macbeth's apologizing for Murther from the * Antiquity of the Example is very natural.”

Ay,

Ay, and fince too, Murthers have been perform'd
Too terrible for th' ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,'
And there an end; but now they rise again
With twenty mortal Murthers on their crowns,
And push us from our stools; this is more strange
Than fuch a murther is.

Lady. My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack Macb. I do forget.

you.

Do not mufe at me, my moft worthy friends,
I have a strange Infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, Love and Health to all!
Then I'll fit down: give me fome wine, fill full
I drink to th' general joy of the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we mifs;
'Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lords. Our Duties, and the Pledge.

[The Ghoft rifes again. Macb. Avaunt, and quit my fight! Let the earth hide

thee!

Thy bones are marrowlefs, thy blood is cold;

Thou haft no fpeculation in thofe eyes,

Which thou doft glare with.

Lady. Think of this, good Peers,

But as a thing of cuftom; 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Mach. What man dare, I dare:
Approach Thou like the rugged Ruffian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcanian tyger,
Take any shape but That, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the Defert with thy fword;
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, terrible shadow !
Unreal mock'ry, hence! Why, fo, being gone,
[The Ghoft vanishes.
[The Lords rife.
broke the good
With

I am a man again: pray you, fit fill.
Lady. You have difplac'd the mirth,
Meeting