Macbeth. William Shakespeare

The king hath happily received, Macbeth,

      The news of thy success; and when he reads

      Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, 195

      His wonders and his praises do contend

      Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,

      In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,

      He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,

      Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, 200

      Strange images of death. As thick as hail

      Came post with post; and every one did bear

      Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,

      And pour'd them down before him.

      Angus. We are sent 205

      To give thee from our royal master thanks;

      Only to herald thee into his sight,

      Not pay thee.

      Ross. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,

      He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: 210

      In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!

      For it is thine.

      Banquo. What, can the devil speak true?

      Macbeth. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me

      In borrow'd robes? 215

      Angus. Who was the thane lives yet;

      But under heavy judgment bears that life

      Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined

      With those of Norway, or did line the rebel

      With hidden help and vantage, or that with both 220

      He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;

      But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,

      Have overthrown him.

      Macbeth. [Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!

      The greatest is behind. 225

      [To ROSS and ANGUS]

      Thanks for your pains.

      [To BANQUO]

      Do you not hope your children shall be kings,

      When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me 230

      Promised no less to them?

      Banquo. That trusted home

      Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,

      Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:

      And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 235

      The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

      Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

      In deepest consequence.

      Cousins, a word, I pray you.

      Macbeth. [Aside]. Two truths are told, 240

      As happy prologues to the swelling act

      Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.

      [Aside] This supernatural soliciting]

      Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,

      Why hath it given me earnest of success, 245

      Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:

      If good, why do I yield to that suggestion

      Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair

      And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,

      Against the use of nature? Present fears 250

      Are less than horrible imaginings:

      My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,

      Shakes so my single state of man that function

      Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is

      But what is not. 255

      Banquo. Look, how our partner's rapt.

      Macbeth. [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,

      Without my stir.

      Banquo. New horrors come upon him,

      Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould 260

      But with the aid of use.

      Macbeth. [Aside] Come what come may,

      Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

      Banquo. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.

      Macbeth. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought 265

      With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains

      Are register'd where every day I turn

      The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.

      Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time,

      The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak 270

      Our free hearts each to other.

      Banquo. Very gladly.

      Macbeth. Till then, enough. Come, friends.

      [Exeunt]

      Act I, Scene 4

      Forres. The palace.

      [Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants]

      Duncan. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not

      Those in commission yet return'd?

      Malcolm. My liege,

      They are not yet come back. But I have spoke

      With one that saw him die: who did report 280

      That very frankly he confess'd his treasons,

      Implored your highness' pardon and set forth

      A deep repentance: nothing in his life

      Became him like the leaving it; he died

      As one that had been studied in his death 285

      To throw away the dearest thing he owed,

      As 'twere a careless trifle.

      Duncan.