Macbeth (Folio 1, 1623)
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The Tragedie of Macbeth.
141
¶Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne.
¶Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne
¶Hath rung Nights yawning Peale,
¶There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note.
¶Lady. What's to be done?
1205Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night,
¶Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
¶And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand
¶Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
¶Which keepes me pale. Light thickens,
1210And the Crow makes Wing toth' Rookie Wood:
¶Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowse,
¶Whiles Nights black Agents to their Prey's doe rowse.
1215So prythee goe with me.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Tertia.
¶
Enter three Murtherers.
¶1. But who did bid thee ioyne with vs?
¶3. Macbeth.
¶Our Offices, and what we haue to doe,
¶To the direction iust.
1225Now spurres the lated Traueller apace,
¶To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approches
¶The subiect of our Watch.
¶Banquo within. Giue vs a Light there, hoa.
12302. Then 'tis hee:
¶The rest, that are within the note of expectation,
¶Alreadie are i'th' Court.
1235So all men doe, from hence toth' Pallace Gate
¶Make it their Walke.
¶
Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.
¶2. A Light, a Light.
¶3. 'Tis hee.
12401. Stand too't.
¶Ban. It will be Rayne to Night.
¶1. Let it come downe.
¶Ban. O, Trecherie!
¶Flye good Fleans, flye, flye, flye,
1245Thou may'st reuenge. O Slaue!
¶1. Was't not the way?
¶3. There's but one downe: the Sonne is fled.
1250Best halfe of our Affaire.
¶
Exeunt.
¶
Scæna Quarta.
¶
Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox,
1255Lords, and Attendants.
1260And play the humble Host:
¶We will require her welcome.
¶La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends,
¶For my heart speakes, they are welcome.
1265
Enter first Murtherer.
¶Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks
¶Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure
¶The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face.
1270Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.
¶Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.
¶Is he dispatch'd?
¶Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him.
1275Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans:
¶If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill.
¶Fleans is scap'd.
¶Macb. Then comes my Fit againe:
1280I had else beene perfect;
¶Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke,
¶As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre:
¶But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in
¶With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
¶The least a Death to Nature.
¶Macb. Thankes for that:
¶There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled
1290Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed,
¶No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow
¶Wee'l heare our selues againe.
Exit Murderer.
¶Lady. My Royall Lord,
1295That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making:
¶'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home:
¶From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony,
¶Meeting were bare without it.
¶
Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place.
1300Macb. Sweet Remembrancer:
¶Now good digestion waite on Appetite,
¶And health on both.
¶Macb. Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd,
¶Then pitty for Mischance.
1310To grace vs with your Royall Company?
Mcab.
