Ang. We are sent, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; Not pay thee. Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! L For it is thine. Ban. What, can the devil speak true? 200 Mac. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes ? Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; Mac. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no less to them? Ban. That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange : The instruments of darkness tell us truths; 210 220 Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.-Cousins, a word I pray you. Mac. Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.- Cannot be ill; cannot be good :—If ill, My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, But what is not. Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. 230 Mac. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. Ban. New honours come upon him 240 Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use. Mac. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Mac. Mac. Give me your favour:-my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn 250 The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the king.Think 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. Mac. 'Till then, enough.-Come, friends. [Exeunt. Flourish. SCENE IV. Enter King, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, King. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd? Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke 269 King. There's no art, To find the mind's construction in the face; An absolute trust. O worthiest cousin! 270 Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS. The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me: thou art so far before, To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd; In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part 280 Are to your throne, and state, children, and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing every thing Safe toward your love and honour. King. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour And hold thee to my heart. Ban. There if I grow, 290 The harvest is your own. King. My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.-Sons, kinsmen, thanes, We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, The prince of Cumberland: which honour must 300 Not, unaccompanied, invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers. From hence to Inverness And bind us further to you. Mac. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you: I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So, humbly take my leave. King. My worthy Cawdor! 309 Mac. 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. [ Exit. 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. Exeunt. 320 SCENE |