Is Banquo gone from court?
Ay, madam, but returns again tonight.
Say to the King I would attend his leisure
For a few words. Madam, I will.
For a few words. Madam, I will. Nought's had, all's spent,
3.2.51158Where our desire is got without content.
3.2.61159'Tis safer to be that which we destroy
3.2.71160Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
3.2.81162How now, my lord, why do you keep alone,
3.2.91163Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
3.2.101164Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
3.2.111165With them they think on? Things without all remedy
3.2.121166Should be without regard: what's done is done.
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
3.2.141168She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
3.2.161170But let the frame of things disjoint,
1171both the worlds suffer,
3.2.171172Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
3.2.181173In the affliction of these terrible dreams
3.2.191174That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
3.2.201175Whom we to gain our peace have sent to peace,
3.2.231179After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.
3.2.241180Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Can touch him further. Come on,
1184gentle my lord,
3.2.27Sleek o'er your rugged looks,
1185be bright and jovial
3.2.28Among your guests tonight.
Among your guests tonight. So shall I, love,
3.2.29And so I pray be you.
1187Let your remembrance
3.2.31Both with eye and tongue.
1189Unsafe the while, that we
3.2.32Must lave
1190our honors in these flattering streams
3.2.331191And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are. You must leave this.
Oh, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife.
3.2.361195Thou knowst that Banquo and his Fleance lives.
But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
There's comfort yet--they are assailable;
3.2.391198Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
3.2.401199His cloistered flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
3.2.411200The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
3.2.43A deed of dreadful note.
A deed of dreadful note. What's to be done?
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
3.2.451205Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
3.2.481208Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
3.2.501210And the crow makes wing to th'rooky wood.
3.2.511211Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
3.2.521212Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
3.2.531213Thou marvel'st at my words, but hold thee still;
3.2.541214Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.