ACT I. SCENE III.

7

Macbeth. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal meltedo ho sak As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!

Banquo. Were such things here as we do speak about?

Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macbeth. Your children shall be kings.
Banquo.

X

You shall be king.

Macbeth. And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
Banquo. To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

Enter Ross and ANGUS.

Ross. The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
The news of thy success; and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend
Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
f. Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,

And pour'd them down before him.

Angus.

To give thee from our royal master thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,

Not pay thee.

Ross. And for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane !

For it is thine,

Banquo.

What, can the devil speak true?

Macbeth. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes?

Angus.

Who was the thane lives yet,

IIO

But under heavy judgement bears that life

Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined

With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,

Have overthrown him.

Macbeth.

[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!

The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus.] Thanks for your pains.

[To Banquo.] Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me

Promised no less to them?

That trusted home

Banquo.
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,

Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

In deepest consequence.

Cousins, a word, I pray you.

Macbeth.

[Aside] Two truths are told,

An happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen. [Aside] This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,

Why hath it given me earnest of success,

Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears

Are less than horrible imaginings :

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man that function
Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is

But what is not.

Banquo.

A

Look how our partner's rapt.

Macbeth. [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance

Without my stir.

[may crown me,

Banquo.

New honours come upon him,

Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould

But with the aid of use.

Macbeth. [Aside] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Banquo. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Macbeth. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn

The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.
Think upon what hath chanced, and at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Banquo.

Very gladly.

Macbeth. Till then, enough. Come, friends.

SCENE IV. Forres. The palace.

150

[Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, Lennox, and Attendants.

Duncan. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd?

Malcolm.

My liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons,
Implored your highness' pardon and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death
To throw away the dearest thing he owed
As 'twere a careless trifle.

Duncan.

There's no art

To find the mind's construction in the face:

He was a gentleman on whom I built

An absolute trust.

10

SCENE I. A desert place.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches.

First Witch.

When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Second Witch. When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.

That will be ere the set of sun.
Where the place?

Third Witch.

First Witch.