coming on of time, with-Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewel. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promis'd:-Yet do I fear thy na

ture;

It is too full o'the milk of human kindness,

To catch the nearest way: Thou would'st be great; Art not without ambition; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou would'st

highly,

That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'd'st have, great

Glamis,

That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it ;
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.

What is your

tidings?

Enter an Attendant.

Atten. The king comes here to-night.

Lady. M.

Thou'rt mad to say it:

Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Atten. So please you, it is true; our thane is

coming:

One of my fellows had the speed of him;

Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

Than would make up his message.

Lady M.

Give him tending,

He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,

[Exit Attendant. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here; And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse; That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring minis

ters,

Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief' Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold!--Great Glamis! worthy
Cawdor!

Enter Macbeth.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond

This ignorant present, and I feel now

The future in the instant.

Mac.

My dearest love,

And when goes hence?

O, never

Duncan comes here to-night.

Mac. To-morrow, -as he purposes.

Lady M.

Lady M.

Shall sun that morrow see!

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters:-To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent

flower,

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Mac. We will speak further.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear:

Only look up clear;

Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.

Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

Unto our gentle senses.

Ban.

This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov❜d mansionry, that the heaven's breath, Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, buttress, Nor coigne of vantage, but this bird hath made His pendent bed, and procreant cradle: Where they

Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, the air

Is delicate.

Dun.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

See, see! our honour'd hostess! The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.

In

Lady M.

All our service

every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business, to contend

Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith Your majesty loads our house: For those of old, And the late dignities heap'd up to them,

We rest your hermits.

Dun.

Where's the thane of Cawdor? We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose

To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess,

We are your guest to-night.

Lady M.

Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,

C

To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

Dun.

Give me your hand:

Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

THE SAME. A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.

Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a sewer, and divers servants with dishes and service. Then enter Macbeth.

Mac. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly: If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come. But, in these cases,
that we but teach

We still have judgment here;
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan