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Macb. If chance will have me king; why, chance may crown me, Without my stir.
Ban. New honours come upon him,
Macb. Come what come may,
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your lei
sure- , ,1 , ,
Macb. Give me your favour:—my dull brain was
wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register d where every day I turn The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the KingThink upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other.
Ban. Very gladly.
Macb. Till then, enough.-- Come, friends.
The Palace, at Fores.
, Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.
Mal. My liege,
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
King. There's no art,
Enter Macduff, Macbeth, Banquo, and Lenox.
O, worthiest cousin!
King. Welcome hither:
Ban. There if I grow,
King. My plenteous joys,
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for
King. My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. The Prince of Cumberland !—That is a step, On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
[Aside. For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant: And in his commendations I am fed; It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome; It is a peerless kinsman.
[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.—Exeunt.
Macbeth's Castle, at Inverness.
Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a Letter.
Lady. They met me in the day of success;
and I have learn'd by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves—air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all hailed me, "Thane of Cawdor;" by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the 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 est not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis'd :—Yet do I fear thy nature;
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
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
What is your tidings?
Sey. The king comes here to-night.
Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it:
Sey. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming:
Lady. Give him tending,
The raven himself is hoarse,
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!