Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, Ross, and ANGUS.

O worthiest cousin!

The sin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me: thou art so far before
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow

To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macbeth. The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties and our duties

Are to your throne and state children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe toward your love and honour.

Duncan.

Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserved, nor must be known
No less to have done so let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.

Banquo.

The harvest is your own.

Duncan.

There if I grow,

My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon

Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must

Not unaccompanied invest him only,

But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine

On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,

And bind us further to you.

Macbeth. The rest is labour, which is not used for you: I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful

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The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my leave.

Duncan.

My worthy Cawdor!

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Macbeth. [Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

[Exit.

Duncan. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,

And in his commendations I am fed;

Let's after him,

Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome :

It is a banquet to me.

It is a peerless kinsman.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle.

Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter.

Lady Macbeth. 'They met me in the day of success: and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me "Thane of Cawdor"; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with "Hail, king that shalt be!" This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.' Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be

What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness

To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition, but without

The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,

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That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,

And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it';

And that which rather thou dost fear to do

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.

Enter a Messenger.

Messenger. The king comes here to-night.

Lady Macbeth.

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What is your tidings?

Thou'rt mad to say it:

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Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,

Would have inform'd for preparation.

Messenger. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming :

One of my fellows had the speed of him,

Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

Than would make up his message.

Lady Macbeth.

He brings great news.

Give him tending ;

[Exit Messenger.

The raven himself is hoarse

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature

Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,

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That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry 'Hold, hold!'

Enter MACBETH.

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under 't. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

Macbeth. We will speak further.
Lady Macbeth.

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Only look up clear;

To alter favour ever is to fear:

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Leave all the rest to me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, Ross, ANGUS, and Attend

ants.

Duncan. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

Unto our gentle senses.

Banquo.

This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve

By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,

Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird

Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle :
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed
The air is delicate.

Enter LADY MACBETH.

Duncan.

See, see, our honour'd hostess !

IO

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains
And thank us for your trouble.

Lady Macbeth.
All our service
In every point twice done and then done double
Were poor and single business to contend
Against those honours deep and broad wherewith
Your majesty loads our house for those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We rest your hermits.

Duncan.

Where's the thane of Cawdor?

We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,

We are your guest to-night.

Lady Macbeth.

Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,

To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

Duncan.

Give me your hand;

Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him,
By your leave, hostess.

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[Exeunt.