Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them :-Whither are they vanish'd ? Macb. Into the air; and what feem'd corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid! Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do speak about ? Or have we eaten of the infane root, That takes the reason prisoner?

Mach. Your children shall be kings.

Ban.

You fhall be king.

Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so ?
Ban. To the self-fame tune, and words. Who's here?

Enter ROSSE, and ANGUS.

Roffe. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccefs: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,

His wonders and his praises do contend,

Which should be thine, or his : Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the reft o' the self-fame day,

He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came poft with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.

We are fent,

Ang.
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks
To herald thee into his fight, not pay thee.

s;

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

For it is thine.

Ban.

What, can the devil speak true?

B 4

Macb,

Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me

In borrow'd robes ?

Ang.

Who was the thane, lives yet;

But under heavy judgement bears that life
Which he deferves to lofe. Whether he was
Combin' with 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 treafons capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb.

Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind.—Thanks for your pains.—
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?

Ban.

That, trusted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,

Befides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis ftrange :
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The inftruments of darkness tell us truths ;
Win us with honeft trifles, to betray us
In deepest confequence.-

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

Macb.

Two truths are told,

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.-
This fupernatural foliciting

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
Whofe horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears

Are

Are less than horrible imaginings :

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes fo my single state of man, that function
Is fmother'd in furmife; and nothing is,

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

Like our strange garments; cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use.

Macb.

Come what come may;

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Macb. 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 chanc'd; and, at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban.

Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

SCENE IV.

Fores. A Room in the Palace.

[Exeunt.

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

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not

Thofe in commiffion yet return'd ?

Mal.

My liege,

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

Dun.

There's no art,

To find the mind's conftruction in the face:

He was a gentleman on whom I built

An abfolute truft.-O worthiest cousin!

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.

The fin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me: Thou art fo far before,
That fwifteft wing of recompenfe is flow

To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deferv'd;
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.
Macb. The fervice 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 fervants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe toward your love and honour.

Dun.

Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That haft no less deserv'd, nor must be known