Macbeth (Including The Biography of the Infamous Author). William Shakespeare

ROSS.

       Will you to Scone?

       MACDUFF.

       No, cousin, I’ll to Fife.

       ROSS.

       Well, I will thither.

       MACDUFF.

       Well, may you see things well done there,—adieu!—

       Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

       ROSS.

       Farewell, father.

       OLD MAN.

       God’s benison go with you; and with those

       That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

       [Exeunt.]

ACT III.

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. Forres. A Room in the Palace.

       [Enter Banquo.]

       BANQUO.

       Thou hast it now,—king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,

       As the weird women promis’d; and, I fear,

       Thou play’dst most foully for’t; yet it was said

       It should not stand in thy posterity;

       But that myself should be the root and father

       Of many kings. If there come truth from them,—

       As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine,—

       Why, by the verities on thee made good,

       May they not be my oracles as well,

       And set me up in hope? But hush; no more.

       [Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth as Queen; Lennox, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.]

       MACBETH.

       Here’s our chief guest.

       LADY MACBETH.

       If he had been forgotten,

       It had been as a gap in our great feast,

       And all-thing unbecoming.

       MACBETH.

       Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir,

       And I’ll request your presence.

       BANQUO.

       Let your highness

       Command upon me; to the which my duties

       Are with a most indissoluble tie

       For ever knit.

       MACBETH.

       Ride you this afternoon?

       BANQUO.

       Ay, my good lord.

       MACBETH.

       We should have else desir’d your good advice,—

       Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,—

       In this day’s council; but we’ll take tomorrow.

       Is’t far you ride?

       BANQUO.

       As far, my lord, as will fill up the time

       ‘Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,

       I must become a borrower of the night,

       For a dark hour or twain.

       MACBETH.

       Fail not our feast.

       BANQUO.

       My lord, I will not.

       MACBETH.

       We hear our bloody cousins are bestow’d

       In England and in Ireland; not confessing

       Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers

       With strange invention: but of that tomorrow;

       When therewithal we shall have cause of state

       Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,

       Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?

       BANQUO.

       Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon’s.

       MACBETH.

       I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;

       And so I do commend you to their backs.

       Farewell.—

       [Exit Banquo.]

       Let every man be master of his time

       Till seven at night; to make society

       The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself

       Till supper time alone: while then, God be with you!

       [Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, Ladies, &c.]

       Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men

       Our pleasure?

       ATTENDANT.

       They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

       MACBETH.

       Bring them before us.

       [Exit Attendant.]

       To be thus is nothing;

       But to be safely thus:—our fears in Banquo.

       Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature

       Reigns that which would be fear’d: ‘tis much he dares;

       And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,

       He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour

       To act in safety. There is none but he

       Whose being I do fear: and under him,

       My genius is rebuk’d; as, it is said,

       Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the sisters

       When first they put the name of king upon me,

       And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,

       They hail’d him father to a line of kings:

       Upon my head they plac’d a fruitless crown,

       And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,

       Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal hand,

       No son of mine succeeding. If’t be so,

       For Banquo’s issue have I fil’d my mind;

       For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d;

       Put rancours in the vessel of my peace

       Only for them; and mine eternal jewel

       Given to the common enemy of man,

       To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!

       Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,

       And champion me to the utterance!—Who’s there?—

       [Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers.]

       Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

       [Exit Attendant.]

       Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

       FIRST MURDERER.

       It was, so please your highness.

       MACBETH.

       Well then, now

       Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know

       That it was he, in the times past, which held you

       So under fortune; which you thought had been

       Our innocent self: this I made good