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To's home before us: fair and noble Hoftefs,

We are your guest to night.

Lady. Your fervants ever

Have theirs, themfelves, and what is theirs in compt,
To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.

King. Give me your hand;

Conduct me to mine Hoft, we love him highly;
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, Hostess.

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[Exeunt.

Changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's Castle. Hautboys, Torches. Enter divers fervants with dishes and fervice over the ftage. Then Macbeth.

Mach. It were done quickly: if th' affaffination

F itwere done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

Could trammel up the confequence, and catch
With its furceafe, fuccefs; that but this blow
Might be the Be-all and the End-all-Here.
*But here, upon this Bank and Shelve of time,
We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases,
We ftill have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody inftructions; which, being taught, return
To plague th'inventor. Even-handed juftice
Returns th' Ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double truft:
Firft, as I am his kinfman and his fubject,
Strong both against the deed: Then, as his Hoft,
Who should against his murd'rer fhut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Befides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties fo meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead, like angels, trumpet-tongu'd against
The deep damnation of his taking off;

But here, upon this bank and school of time,] We fhould read,
Shelve of Time. Mr. Theobald reads, Shoal.

VOL. VII.

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And Pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blaft, or heav'n's cherubin hors'd
Upon the fightless courfers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye;
That tears fhall drown the wind-I have no fpur
To prick the fides of my intent, but only
Vaulting Ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on th' other-

SCENE

Enter Lady Macbeth.

How now? what news?

X.

Lady. He's almost fupp'd; why have you left the chamber?

Macb. Hath he afk'd for me?

Lady. Know you not he has ?

Macb. We will proceed no further in this business. He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all fort of people,

Which would be worn now in their newest glofs,
Not caft afide fo foon.

Lady. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dreft yourself? hath it flept fince?
And wakes it now, to look fo green and pale
At what it did fo freely? from this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afraid
To be the fame in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in defire? would'ft thou have That,
Which thou efteem'ft the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own efteem?
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
* Like the poor cat i' th' Adage.

Mach. Pr'ythee, peace;

I dare do all that may become a man ;

Who dares do more, is none.

Like the poor cat i'th Adage.] The Adage alluded to is, The Cat

would catch Fish, but she dare not wet her Feet.

Warb.

Lady.

Lady. What beaft was't then,

That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durft do it, then you were a man;
And (to be more than what you were) you would
Be fo much more the man. Nor time, nor place
Did then cohere, and yet you would make both:
They've made themselves; and that their fitness now
Do's unmake you. I have given fuck, and know
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me-
I would, while it was fmiling in my face,
Have pluckt my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dafht the drains out, had I but so sworn
you have done to this.

As

Macb. If we fhould fail,-
Lady. We fail!

But fcrew your courage to the sticking place,

And we'll not fail.

When Duncan is asleep,

(Whereto the rather fhall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him) his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and waffel fo convince,
That memory (the warder of the brain)
Shall be a fume; and the receipt of reason
A limbec only; when in fwinish fleep
Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
Th'unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His fpungy officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?

Macb. Bring forth men-children only!
For thy undaunted metal fhould compofe
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have don't?

Lady. Who dares receive it other,

As we fhall make our griefs and clamour roar,
Upon his death?

Macb. I'm fettled, and bend up

O 2

Each

Each corporal agent to this terrible Feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

Falfe face muft hide what the falfe heart doth know.

[Exeunt.

ACT

II. SCENE I.

A Hall in Macbeth's Cafle.

Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him.

BANQUO.

HOW goes the night, boy?

[clock.

Fle. The moon is down: I have not heard the Ban. And fhe goes down at twelve.

Fle. I take't, 'tis later, Sir.

[heav'n,

Ban. Hold, take my fword. There's husbandry in Their candles are all out.—Take thee that too. A heavy fummons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not fleep: Merciful Pow'rs! Restrain in me the curfed thoughts, that nature Gives way to in repose.

Enter Macbeth, and a fervant with a torch.

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Ban. What, Sir, not yet at reft? the King's a-bed. He hath to night been in unusual pleasure,

And fent great largefs to your officers;

This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of moft kind Hoftefs, and fhut up
In measureless content.

Macb. Being unprepar'd,

Our will became the fervant to defect;
Which elfe fhould free have wrought.

Ban. All's well.

I dreamt laft night of the three weyward fifters:
To you they've fhew'd fome truth.

Macb.

Macb. I think not of them;

Yet, when we can intreat an hour to serve,

Would spend it in fome words upon that businefs; If would grant the time.

you

Ban. At your kind leisure.

Macb. If you fhall cleave to my confent, when 'tis, It fhall make honour for you.

Ban. So I lofe none

In feeking to augment it, but ftill keep
My bofom franchis'd and allegiance clear,
I fhall be counfell'd.

Macb. Good repose the while!

Ban. Thanks, Sir; the like to you.

[Exeunt Banquo and Fleance.

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Macb. GO, bid thy mistress, when my drink is

ready,

She ftrike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. [Exit Serv. Is this a dagger which I fee before me,

[thee. The handle tow'rd my hand? come, let me clutch I have thee not, and yet I fee thee ftill. Art thou not, fatal Vision, fenfible To feeling as to fight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a falfe creation Proceeding from the heat-oppreffed brain? I fee thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'ft me the way that I was going;
And fuch an inftrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o'th' other senses,
Or elfe worth all the reft-I fee thee ftill;

* And on the blade of th❜dudgeon, †gouts of blood,

And on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts of blood,] Certainly, if on the Blade, then on the Dudgeon; for Dudgeon fignifies a fmall Dagger. We fhould read therefore,

And on the Blade of th' Dudgeont-gouts of blood] Or Drops, French.

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Mr. Pope.
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