« AnteriorContinuar »
Macb. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir,
And I'll request your presence.
Let your highness
Command upon me, to the which, my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
Macb. Ride you this afternoon?
Ay, my good lord.
Macb. We should have else desired your good advice,
(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,)
In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
Is't far you ride?
Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
'Twixt this and supper; go not my horse the better,
I must become a borrower of the night,
For a dark hour, or twain.
Fail not our feast.
Ban. My lord, I will not.
Macb. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestowed
In England, and in Ireland ; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention; but of that tomorrow;
When, therewithal, we shall have cause of state,
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse; adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you ?
Ban. Ay, my good lord; our time does call upon us.
Macb. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; ..
And so I do commend you to their backs.
. [Exit BANQUO.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you.
[Exeunt LADY MACBETH, Lords, Ladies, &c. Sirrah, & word with you. Attend thosc men Our pleasure ?
Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace-gate.
Macb. Bring them before us. . [Exit Atten.
To be thus is nothing; -
But to be safely thus.- Our foars in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that, which would be feared. 'Tis much he dares ;
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being I do fear; and, under him,
Whaving us burn at nod lord ; Swift an Backs. Fixit BANQU
My genius is rebuked; as, it said,
Mark Antony's was by Cæsar. He chid the sisters,
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hailed him father to a line of kings;
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If it be so,
For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered;
Put rancors in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings; the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance ! - Who's there?
Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers.
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call,
- [Exit Attendant. Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
1 Mur. It was, so please your highness. Macb.
Well then, now
Have you considered of my speeches ? Know,
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune; which, you thought, had been
Our innocent self. This I made good to you
In our last conference, passed in probation with you,
How you were borne in hand; how crossed; the instruments;
Who wrought with them; and all things else, that might,
To half a soul, and to a notion crazed,
Say, Thus did Banquo.
You made it known to us.
Macb. I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospelled
To pray for that good man, and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand has bowed you to the grave,
And beggared yours forever ? .
We are men, my liege.
Macb. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are cleped
All by the name of dogs. The valued file
Say, Thug soul, and em; and all timessed; the with
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
Not in the worst rank of manhood, say it;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incensed, that I am reckless what
I do, to spite the world.
And I another,
So weary with disasters, tugged with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it, or be rid on't.
Both of you
Know, Banquo was your enemy,
· 2 Mur.
True, my lord. Macb. So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near'st of life. And though I could With barefaced power sweep him from my sight, And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Whom I myself struck down; and thence it is, That I to your assistance do make love; Masking the business from the common eye, For sundry weighty reasons. 2 Mur.
We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us. 1 Mur.
Though our lives Macb. Your spirits shine through you. Within this
hour, at most, I will advise you where to plant yourselves; Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'the time, The moment on't: for't must be done to-night, And something from the palace; always thought, That I require a clearness. And with him (To leave no rubs, nor botches, in the work)
Fleance, his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;
I'll come to you anon.
We are resolved, my lord.
Macb. I'll call upon you straight; abide within.
It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exeunt.
Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant.
Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court?
Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
For a few words.
Serv. Madam, I will.
[Exit. Lady M.
Nought's had, all's spent,
Where our desire is got without content.
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.
How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making ?
Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
With them they think on? Things without remedy,
Should be without regard; what's done is done.
Macb. We have scotched the snake, not killed it;
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint,
Both the worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams
That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well.
Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further!
Lady M. Come on, gentle my lord;
VOL. II. - 15
Sleek o'er your rugged looks; be bright and jovial
Among your guests to-night.
So shall I, love;
And so, I pray, be you. Let your remembrance
Apply to Banquo: present him eminence, both
With eye and tongue: unsafe, the while, that we
Must lave our honors in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
You must leave this.
Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife !
Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Lady M. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable; Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown His cloistered flight; ere, to black Hecate's summons, The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done . A deed of dreadful note. Lady M.
What's to be done? Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And, with thy bloody and invisible hand, Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!-Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse. Thou marvell’st at my words; but hold thee still; Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill. So, pr’ythee, go with me.
SCENE III. The same. A Park or Lawn, with a Gate
leading to the Palace.
Enter three Murderers. 1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us? 3 Mur.
Macbeth. 2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers · Our offices, and what we have to do, To the direction just. 1 Mur.
Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day;
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,