Macbeth

Act IIIScene 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 saidIt should not stand in thy posterity;But that myself should be the root and fatherOf 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, 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 HighnessCommand upon me, to the which my dutiesAre with a most indissoluble tieFor 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’dIn England and in Ireland; not confessingTheir cruel parricide, filling their hearersWith strange invention. But of that tomorrow,When therewithal we shall have cause of stateCraving 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 timeTill seven at night; to make societyThe sweeter welcome, we will keep ourselfTill supper time alone: while then, God be with you.

Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, &c.

Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those menOur pleasure?

Servant

They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

Macbeth

Bring them before us.

Exit Servant.

To be thus is nothing,But to be safely thus. Our fears in BanquoStick deep, and in his royalty of natureReigns 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 valourTo act in safety. There is none but heWhose being I do fear: and under himMy genius is rebuk’d; as, it is said,Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the sistersWhen 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 peaceOnly for them; and mine eternal jewelGiven 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 th’ utterance!—Who’s there?—

Enter Servant with two Murderers.

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

Exit Servant.

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

First Murderer

It was, so please your Highness.

Macbeth

Well then, nowHave you consider’d of my speeches? KnowThat it was he, in the times past, which held youSo under fortune, which you thought had beenOur innocent self? This I made good to youIn our last conference, pass’d in probation with youHow you were borne in hand, how cross’d, the instruments,Who wrought with them, and all things else that mightTo half a soul and to a notion craz’dSay, “Thus did Banquo.”

First Murderer

You made it known to us.

Macbeth

I did so; and went further, which is nowOur point of second meeting. Do you findYour patience so predominant in your nature,That you can let this go? Are you so gospell’d,To pray for this good man and for his issue,Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave,And beggar’d yours forever?

First Murderer

We are men, my liege.

Macbeth

Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are cleptAll by the name of dogs: the valu’d fileDistinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,The housekeeper, the hunter, every oneAccording to the gift which bounteous natureHath in him clos’d; whereby he does receiveParticular addition, from the billThat writes them all alike: and so of men.Now, if you have a station in the file,Not i’ th’ worst rank of manhood, say’t;And I will put that business in your bosoms,Whose execution takes your enemy off,Grapples you to the heart and love of us,Who wear our health but sickly in his life,Which in his death were perfect.

Second Murderer

I am one, my liege,Whom the vile blows and buffets of the worldHath so incens’d that I am reckless whatI do to spite the world.

First Murderer

And I another,So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune,That I would set my life on any chance,To mend it or be rid on’t.

Macbeth

Both of youKnow Banquo was your enemy.

Both Murderers

True, my lord.

Macbeth

So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,That every minute of his being thrustsAgainst my near’st of life; and though I couldWith barefac’d power sweep him from my sight,And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,For certain friends that are both his and mine,Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fallWho I myself struck down: and thence it isThat I to your assistance do make love,Masking the business from the common eyeFor sundry weighty reasons.

Second Murderer

We shall, my lord,Perform what you command us.

First Murderer

Though our lives—

Macbeth

Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most,I will advise you where to plant yourselves,Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ th’ time,The moment on’t; for’t must be done tonightAnd something from the palace; always thoughtThat I require a clearness. And with him(To leave no rubs nor botches in the work)Fleance his son, that keeps him company,Whose absence is no less material to meThan is his father’s, must embrace the fateOf that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart.I’ll come to you anon.

Both Murderers

We are resolv’d, my lord.

Macbeth

I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.

Exeunt Murderers.

It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight,If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.

Exit.