Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.

Scaena Quarta.

Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.

Macb.

You know your owne degrees, sit downe: At first and last, the hearty welcome.

Lords.

Thankes to your Maiesty.

Macb.

Our selfe will mingle with Society, And play the humble Host: Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time We will require her welcome.

La.

Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends, For my heart speakes, they are welcome.

Enter first Murtherer.

Macb.

See they encounter thee with their harts thanks Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i' th' mid'st, Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face.

Mur.

'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb.

'Tis better thee without, then he within. Is he dispatch'd?

Mur.

My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him.

Mac.

Thou art the best o' th' Cut-throats, Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans: If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill.

Mur.

Most Royall Sir Fleans is scap'd.

Macb.

Then comes my Fit againe: I had else beene perfect; Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke, As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre: But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe?

Mur.

I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a Death to Nature.

Macb.

Thankes for that: There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed, No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow Wee'l heare our selues againe.

Exit Murderer.

Lady.

My Royall Lord, You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making: 'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home: From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony, Meeting were bare without it.

Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place.

Macb.

Sweet Remembrancer: Now good digestion waite on Appetite, And health on both.

Lenox.

May't please your Highnesse sit.

Macb.

Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd, Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present: Who, may I rather challenge for vnkindnesse, Then pitty for Mischance.

Rosse.

His absence (Sir) Layes blame vpon his promise. Pleas't your Highnesse To grace vs with your Royall Company?

Macb.

The Table's full.

Lenox.

Heere is a place reseru'd Sir.

Macb.

Where?

Lenox.

Heere my good Lord. What is't that moues your Highnesse?

Macb.

Which of you haue done this?

Lords.

What, my good Lord?

Macb.

Thou canst not say I did it: neuer shake Thy goary lockes at me.

Rosse.

Gentlemen rise, his Highnesse is not well.

Lady.

Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus, And hath beene from his youth. Pray you keepe Seat, The fit is momentary, vpon a thought He will againe be well. If much you note him You shall offend him, and extend his Passion, Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?

Macb.

I, and a bold one, that dare looke on that Which might appall the Diuell.

La.

O proper stuffe: This is the very painting of your feare: This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you said Led you to Duncan. O, these flawes and starts (Impostors to true feare) would well become A womans story, at a Winters fire Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it selfe, Why do you make such faces? When all's done You looke but on a stoole.

Macb

Prythee see there: Behold, looke, loe, how say you: Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speake too. If Charnell houses, and our Graues must send Those that we bury, backe; our Monuments Shall be the Mawes of Kytes.

La.

What? quite vnmann'd in folly.

Macb.

If I stand heere, I saw him.

La.

Fie for shame.

Macb.

Blood hath bene shed ere now, i' th' olden time Ere humane Statute purg'd the gentle Weale: I, and since too, Murthers haue bene perform'd Too terrible for the eare. The times has bene, That when the Braines were out, the man would dye, And there an end: But now they rise againe With twenty mortall murthers on their crownes, And push vs from our stooles. This is more strange Then such a murther is.

La.

My worthy Lord Your Noble Friends do lacke you.

Macb.

I do forget: Do not muse at me my most worthy Friends, I haue a strange infirmity, which is nothing To those that know me. Come, loue and health to all, Then Ile sit downe: Giue me some Wine, fill full:

Enter Ghost.

I drinke to th' generall ioy o' th' whole Table, And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we misse: Would he were heere: to all, and him we thirst, And all to all.

Lords.

Our duties, and the pledge.

Mac.

Auant, & quit my sight, let the earth hide thee: Thy bones are marrowlesse, thy blood is cold: Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with.

La.

Thinke of this good Peeres▪ But as a thing of Custome: 'Tis no other, Onely it spoyles the pleasure of the time.

Macb.

What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian Beare, The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hircan Tiger, Take any shape but that, and my firme Nerues Shall neuer tremble. Or be aliue againe, And dare me to the Desart with thy Sword: If trembling I inhabit then, protest mee The Baby of a Girle. Hence horrible shadow, Vnreall mock'ry hence. Why so, being gone I am a man againe: pray you sit still.

La.

You haue displac'd the mirth, Broke the good meeting, with most admir'd disorder.

Macb.

Can such things be, And ouercome vs like a Summers Clowd, Without our speciall wonder? You make me strange Euen to the disposition that I owe, When now I thinke you can behold such sights, And keepe the naturall Rubie of your Cheekes, When mine is blanch'd with feare.

Rosse.

What sights, my Lord?

La.

I pray you speake not: he growes worse & worse Question enrages him: at once, goodnight. Stand not vpon the order of your going, But go at once.

Len.

Good night, and better health Attend his Maiesty.

La.

A kinde goodnight to all.

Exit Lords.

Macb.

It will haue blood they say: Blood will haue Blood: Stones haue beene knowne to moue, & Trees to speake: Augures, and vnderstood Relations, haue By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes & Rookes brought forth The secret'st man of Blood. What is the night?

La.

Almost at oddes with morning, which is which.

Macb.

How say'st thou that Macduff denies his person At our great bidding.

La:

Did you send to him Sir?

Macb.

I heare it by the way: But I will send: There's not a one of them but in his house I keepe a Seruant Feed. I will to morrow (And betimes I will) to the weyard Sisters. More shall they speake: for now I am bent to know By the worst meanes, the worst, for mine owne good, All causes shall giue way. I am in blood Stept in so farre, that should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go ore: Strange things I haue in head, that will to hand, Which must be acted, ere they may be scand.

La.

You lacke the season of all Natures, sleepe.

Macb.

Come, wee'l to sleepe: My strange & self-abuse Is the initiate feare, that wants hard vse: We are yet but yong indeed.

Exeunt.