They hail’d 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 wrench’d with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If ‘t be so,
For Banquo’s issue have I filed my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d;
Put rancours 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?
First Murderer It was, so please your highness.
MACBETH Well then, now
Have you consider’d 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, pass’d in probation with you,
How you were borne in hand, how cross’d,
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.’
First Murderer You made it known to us.
MACBETH 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 gospell’d
To pray for this good man and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave
And beggar’d yours for ever?
First Murderer We are men, my liege.
MACBETH Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept
All by the name of dogs: the valued file
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 i’ the worst rank of manhood, say ‘t;
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.
Second Murderer 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.
First Murderer And I another
So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune,
That I would set my lie on any chance,
To mend it, or be rid on’t.
MACBETH Both of you
Know Banquo was your enemy.
Both Murderers True, my lord.
MACBETH 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
Who 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.
Second Murderer We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.
First Murderer Though our lives–
MACBETH 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.
Both Murderers We are resolved, my lord.
MACBETH I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.
Exeunt Murderers
It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.
Exit
Scene 2
The palace.
Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant
LADY MACBETH Is Banquo gone from court?
Servant Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
LADY MACBETH Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
For a few words.
Servant Madam, I will.
Exit
LADY MACBETH 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.
Enter MACBETH
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 all remedy
Should be without regard: what’s done is done.
MACBETH We have scotch’d the snake, not kill’d 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 peace, 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 MACBETH Come on;
Gentle my lord, sleek o’er your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.
MACBETH 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 honours in these flattering streams,
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
LADY MACBETH You must leave this.
MACBETH O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
LADY MACBETH But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne.
MACBETH There’s comfort yet; they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
His cloister’d 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 MACBETH What’s to be done?
MACBETH Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
Scarf 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;
While 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, prithee, go with me.
Exeunt
Scene 3
A park near the palace.
Enter three Murderers
First Murderer But who did bid thee join with us?
Third Murderer Macbeth.
Second Murderer He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
Our offices and what we have to do
To the direction just.
First Murderer Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated traveller apace
To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The subject of our watch.
Third Murderer Hark! I hear horses.
BANQUO [Within]
Give us a light there, ho!
Second Murderer Then ’tis he: the rest
That are within the note of expectation
Already are i’ the court.
First Murderer His horses go about.
Third Murderer Almost a mile: but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
Make it their walk.
Second Murderer A light, a light!
Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch
Third Murderer ‘Tis he.
First Murderer Stand to’t.
BANQUO It will be rain to-night.
First Murderer Let it come down.
They set upon BANQUO
BANQUO O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
Thou mayst revenge. O slave!
Dies. FLEANCE escapes
Third Murderer Who did strike out the light?
First Murderer Wast not the way?
Third Murderer There’s but one down; the son is fled.
Second Murderer We have lost
Best half of our affair.
First Murderer Well, let’s away, and say how much is done.
Exeunt
Scene 4
The same. Hall in the palace.
A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants
MACBETH You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
And last the hearty welcome.
Lords Thanks to your majesty.
MACBETH Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time