With such prophetic greeting?

[Thunder and Lightning.-WITCHES vanish. Speak, I charge you.

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 seem'd corporal, melted

As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid!
Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban. You shall be king.

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

Enter MACDUFF and LENOX.

Macd. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy success: and, when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebel's fight, His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine or his : Silenc'd with that, In viewing o'er the rest o'the self-same day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale, Came post with post; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd them down before him.

Len. We are sent,

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

Not

pay thee.

Macd. 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.

Ban. What! can the devil speak true?

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

In borrow'd robes?

Macd. Who was the thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deserves to lose;

For treasons capital, confess'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,
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 us

In deepest consequence.-Cousins, 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 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.

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt, .

Macb. If chance will have me king; why, chance

may crown me,

Without my

stir.

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 lei

sure.

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.

[March.-Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Palace, at Fores.

Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

Enter KING DUNCAN, DONALBAIN, MALCOLM, Rosse, and Two CHAMBERLAINS.

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

Mal. 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;
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he dy'd
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built

An absolute trust.

Enter MACDUFF, MACBETH, BANQUO, and LENOX.

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 deserv'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 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.

King. Welcome hither:

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

Ban. There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.

King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fullness, 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.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for

you:

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland !-That is a

step,

On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,

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.

[Aside.

[Exit MACBETH. King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant:

And in his commendations I am fed ;

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome;
It is a peerless kinsman.

[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt."