The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.
Macd. Your royal father's murder'd.

Mal.
O, by whom?
Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood,
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found

Upon their pillows:

They star'd, and were distracted; no man's life
Was to be trusted with them.

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

That I did kill them.

Macd.

Wherefore did you so?

[rious,

Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and fuLoyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: The expedition of my violent love Out-ran the pauser reason.-Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature, For ruin's wasteful entrance: there the murderers, Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart

Courage, to make his love known?

Lady M.

Macd. Look to the lady.

Mal.

Help me hence, ho!

Why do we hold our tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours?

Don. What should be spoken here,

Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,

May rush, and seize us? Let's away; our tears

Are not yet brew'd.

Mal.

Nor our strong sorrow on

The foot of motion.

Ban.

Look to the lady:

[Lady Macbeth is carried out.

And when we have our naked frailties hid,

That suffer in exposure, let us meet,

And question this most bloody piece of work,

To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us :

In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence,

Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight

Of treasonous malice.

Macb.

All.

And so do I.

So all.

Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness,

And meet i'the hall together.

All.

Well contented.

[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.

Mal. What will you do? Let's not consort with them: To show an unfelt sorrow, is an office Which the false man does easy: I'll to England. Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, The nearer bloody.

Mal.

This murderous shaft that's shot,

Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.

SCENE IV. Without the Castle.
Enter ROSSE and an Old Man.

[Exeunt.

Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time, I have seen Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night Hath trifled former knowings.

Rosse.

Ah, good father,

Thou see'st the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,

When living light should kiss it?

Old M.

'Tis unnatural,

Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,

Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd.

Rosse. And Duncan's horses (a thing most strange

and certain),

Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
War with mankind.

Old M.

'Tis said, they eat each other. Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes, Here comes the good Macduff:

That look'd upon't.

Enter MACDUFF.

How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd.

Why, see you not?

Rosse. Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Rosse.

What good could they pretend?,
Macd.

Alas, the day!

They were suborn'd:

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them

Suspicion of the deed.

Rosse.

'Gainst nature still:

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means!--Then 'tis most like,

The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd. He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone,

To be invested.

Rosse.

Where is Duncan's body?

Macd. Carried to Colmes-kill;

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,

And guardian of their bones.

Rosse.

Will you to Scone?

Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.

Rosse.

Well, I will thither.

Macd. Well, may you see things well done there;

adieu!

Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

Rosse. Father, farewell.

Old M. God's benison go with you; and with those

That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. FORES. A Room in the Palace.
Enter BANQUO.

Ban. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said,
It should not stand in thy posterity;
But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine),
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,

And set me up in hope? But, hush; no more.

Senet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as King; LADY MACBETH, as Queen; LENOX, ROSSE, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.

Macb. Here's our chief guest.

Lady M.

If he had been forgotten,

It had been as a gap in our great feast,

And all things unbecoming.

Mach. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir,

And I'll request your presence.

Ban.

Let your highness

Command upon me; to the which, my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie

For ever knit.

Mach. Ride you this afternoon?

Ban.

Ay, my good lord. Mach. We should have else desir'd your good advice good (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous), In this day's counsel; but we'll take to-morrow. Is't far you ride?

Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night,

For a dark hour, or twain.

Macb.

Ban. My lord, I will not.

Fail not our feast.

Macb. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd
In England, and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention: But of that to-morrow;
When, therewithal, we shall have cause of state,
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: Adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
Ban. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon us.
Macb. I wish your horses swift, and sure of foot;

And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewell.

Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society

[Exit Banquo.

The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you.

[Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, Ladies, &c.

Sirrah, a word: Attend those men our pleasure?

Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

Macb. Bring them before us. [Exit Atten.] To be

thus, is nothing:

But to be safely thus:-Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature