Lords. Thanks to your Majesty. Macb. Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host: Our hostess keeps her state,1 but in best time We will require her welcome. Lady. Pronounce it for me, Sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they're welcome. Enter first Murderer. [They sit. Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. Be large in mirth ;-anon we'll drink a measure [To the Murderer, aside, at the door. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then. Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.2 Mur. My Lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. That did the like for Fleance; if thou didst it, Thou art the non-pareil. Mur. Most royal Sir, Fleance is 'scap'd. Macb. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, Whole as the marble, founded as the rock; As broad and gen'ral as the casing air: But now I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?— Mur. Ay, my good Lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head, The least a death to nature. Macb. Thanks for that. There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled, No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone; to-morrow Lady. My royal Lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold, That is not often vouchéd while 'tis making; 4 [Exit Murderer. "Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home ; Meeting were bare without it. [The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place. 1 Remains seated in her throne of state, or ceremony: So Ben Jonson "Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep "-Cynthia's Revels. We retain the expression in the phrases "state apartments”—and “lying in state." 3 Banquo's son. 2 Better the blood on thy outside, than he within the hall. 4 "That which is not given cheerfully cannot be called a gift, it is something that must be paid for."-Johnson. 5 We would expect, and for 'lis. The mere purpose of feeding were best accomplished at home. Macb. Sweet remembrancer! -Now good digestion wait on appetite, Len. May't please your highness sit? Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present, Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness, Than pity for mischance ! Rosse. His absence, Sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your Highness To grace us with your royal company? Macb. The table's full. Len. Here is a place reserv'd, Sir. Macb. Where? Len. Here, my good Lord. What is't that moves your highness? Macb. Which of you have done this? Macb. Thou can'st not say I did it. Never shake Rosse. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well. T [Starting. Lady. Sit, worthy friends. My Lord is often thus, He will again be well. If much you note him, [To Macbeth, aside. Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil. Lady. O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear; This is the air-drawn dagger,1 which, you said, [Aside. Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all's done, Macb. Pr'ythee see there! Behold! look! lo! how say you? [Pointing at the Ghost. Why, what care I? if thou can'st nod, speak too. If charnel-houses and our graves must send Those, that we bury, back, our monuments Lady. What! quite unmann'd in folly? 1 See Act ii. Sc. 2. [The Ghost vanishes. Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time, Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd That when the brains were out, the man would die, Lady. My worthy Lord, Your noble friends do lack you. Macb. I do forget. Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends; I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing To those that know me. Come, love and health to all! Then I'll sit down; give me some wine, fill full I drink to th' general joy of the whole table, Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. [The Ghost rises again. Macb. Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare withal. Lady. Think of this, good peers, Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, I am a man again. Pray you sit still. [The Ghost vanisheth. [The Lords rise. Lady. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting With most admir'd' disorder. Macb. Can such things be, And overcome us, like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange, Crown in this application has lost caste as a word since the days of Shakespeare. Instances of this occur repeatedly in the works of the older writers. All good wishes to all. 3 Refuse thy challenge. 5 Pass over us. Ev'n to the disposition that I owe,1 When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheek, When mine is blanch'd with fear. Rosse. What sights, my Lord? Lady. I pray you speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him. At once good night. Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once. Len. Good night, and better health Attend his Majesty ! Lady. Good night to all. [Exeunt Lords. Macb. It will have blood.-They say, blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, that understand relations, have, By magpies, and by choughs and rooks, brought forth * ACT IV. SC. 6. MACDUFF RECEIVES THE TIDINGS OF THE SLAUGHTER OF Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Rosse. No; they were well at peace when I did leave them. Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes it? Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Of many worthy fellows that were out,3 Mal. Be't their comfort We're coming thither. Gracious England hath That Christendom gives out. Rosse. Would I could answer This comfort with the like. 1 Possess. See note 2, p. 92. But I have words, 2 Connections of one thing with another; another reading is "and understood relations." In insurrection against Macbeth's tyranny. Note the beauty of Rosse's unwillingness to answer Macduff's question, while the fulness of his mind with the terrible intelligence urges him to return to it. That would be howl'd out in the desert air, Macd. What concern they? The gen'ral cause? or is it a fee grief;1 Rosse. No mind that's honest, But in it shares some woe; though the main part Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me; quickly let me have it. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Macd. Hum! I guess at it. Rosse. Your castle is surpriz'd, your wife and babes Mal. Merciful Heav'n What, man ne'er pull your hat upon your brows: Rosse. Wife, children, servants,-all that could be found. Mal. Be comforted. Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones? At one fell swoop? Mal. Dispute it like a man. Macd. I shall do so, But I must also feel it as a man. I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did Heav'n look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, Fell slaughter on their souls. Heav'n rest them now! 1 "A grief that hath a single owner."-Johnson. The piled slaughter of a hunting-match. 3 Malcolm: Constance makes a similar reflection-"He talks to me that never had a son."---King John, Act III. Sc. 4. |