...charm’s wound up.
Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
...have not seen.
How far is ’t called to Forres?—What are these,
So withered, and so wild in their attire,
That look not like th’ inhabitants o’ th’ Earth
And yet are on ’t?—Live you? Or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips. You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
...be king hereafter!
Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?—I’ th’ name of truth,
Are you fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly you show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace and great prediction
Of noble having and of royal hope,
That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not.
If you can look into the seeds of time
And say which grain will grow and which will not,
Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favors nor your hate.
...I charge you.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?
...they had stayed!
Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
...shall be kings.
You shall be king.
...it not so?
To th’ selfsame tune and words.—Who’s here?
...it is thine.
What, can the devil speak true?
...less to them?
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,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s
In deepest consequence.—
Cousins, a word, I pray you.They step aside.
...what is not.
Look how our partner’s rapt.
...Without my stir.
New honors come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mold
But with the aid of use.
...the roughest day.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
...each to other.
...then, enough.—Come, friends.
...An absolute trust.
Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus.
...to my heart.
There, if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
...a peerless kinsman.
Flourish. They exit.
...rest to me.
Hautboys and Torches. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and Attendants.
...our gentle senses.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath
Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
The air is delicate.
...your leave, hostess.
Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him.
How goes the night, boy?
...heard the clock.
And she goes down at twelve.
...’tis later, sir.
Hold, take my sword.He gives his sword to Fleance.
There’s husbandry in heaven;
Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers,
Restrain in me the cursèd thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose.
Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch.
Give me my sword.—Who’s there?
... A friend.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The King’s abed.
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your offices.
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up
In measureless content.
He gives Macbeth a jewel.
...free have wrought.
I dreamt last night of the three Weïrd Sisters.
To you they have showed some truth.
...grant the time.
At your kind’st leisure.
...honor for you.
So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
I shall be counseled.
...repose the while.
Thanks, sir. The like to you.
Banquo and Fleance exit.
...as it fell.
...in our house?
Too cruel anywhere.—
Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself
And say it is not so.
...foot of motion.
Look to the lady.
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure, let us meet
And question this most bloody piece of work
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us.
In the great hand of God I stand, and thence
Against the undivulged pretense I fight
Of treasonous malice.
...th’ hall together.
All but Malcolm and Donalbain exit.
...friends of foes.
Thou hast it now—king, Cawdor, Glamis, all
As the Weïrd Women promised, and I fear
Thou played’st 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.
...request your presence.
Let your Highness
Command upon me, to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
...you this afternoon?
Ay, my good lord.
...far you ride?
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.
...not our feast.
My lord, I will not.
...Fleance with you?
Ay, my good lord. Our time does call upon ’s.
...their backs. Farewell.
...I hear horses.
Give us a light there, ho!
...it their walk.
Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a torch.
...Stand to ’t.
It will be rain tonight.
...it come down!
The three Murderers attack.
O treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
Thou mayst revenge—O slave!
He dies. Fleance exits.
...much is done.
...bare without it.
Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeth’s place.
...maws of kites.
...wine. Fill full.
...Unreal mock’ry, hence!
...shadows; so depart.
A show of eight kings, the eighth king with a glass in his hand, and Banquo last.
...them for his.
The Apparitions disappear.