[Forres, the royal palace. Enter Banquo thinking outloud]
Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all
As the weird women promised, and, I fear,
Thou played’st most foully for't. Yet it was said
It should not stand in thy posterity,
But that myself should be the root and father
Of 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.
[Trumpet sounded. Enter Macbeth, as king, Lady Macbeth, as queen, Lennox, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants]
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
Tonight we hold a solemn supper sir,
And I'll request your presence.
Command upon me, to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
We should have else desired your good advice,
Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,
In this day's council; but we'll take tomorrow.
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.
We hear our bloody cousins are bestowed
In England and in Ireland, not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention. But of that tomorrow,
When therewithal we shall have cause of state
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse. Adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
Ay, my good lord. Our time does call upon 's.
I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night. To make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone. While then, God be with you.
[Exit all but Macbeth, and an attendant]
Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men our pleasure?
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
[Exit Attendant. Macbeth thinks out loud]
But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that which would be feared. Tis much he dares,
And to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being I do fear; and, under him,
My Genius is rebuked as, it is said,
Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him. Then, prophet-like,
They hailed him father to a line of kings.
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren scepter in my gripe,
Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so,
For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind.
For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered,
Put rancors in the vessel of my peace,
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given 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 the utterance – Who's there?
[Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers]
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
It was, so please your highness.
Well then, now have you considered of my
speeches? Know that it was he in the times past which
held you so under fortune, which you thought had been
our innocent self? This I made good to you in our last
conference, passed in probation with you how you were
borne in hand, how crossed, the instruments, who
wrought with them, and all things else that might to
half a soul, and to a notion crazed, say 'Thus did
I did so, and went further, which is now our
point of second meeting. Do you find your patience so
predominant in your nature that you can let this go?
Are you so gospelled to pray for this good man and for
his issue, whose heavy hand hath bowed you to the
grave and beggared yours forever?
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men,
As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept
All by the name of dogs. The valued file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The housekeeper, the hunter — every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him closed, whereby he does receive
Particular addition from the bill
That writes them all alike — and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file
Not i' the 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.
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do
So weary with disasters, tugged with fortune,
That I would set my lie on any chance
To mend it, or be rid on't.
Know Banquo was your enemy.
So is he mine — and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
Against my near'st of life; and though I could
With barefaced 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 fall,
Who I myself struck down. And thence it is —
That I, to your assistance, do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.
Perform what you command us.
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' the time,
The moment on't — for't must be done tonight
And something from the palace, always thought
That 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 me
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;
We are resolved, my lord.
I'll call upon you straight; abide within.
It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.