SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace.
A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS,
You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
Ourself will mingle with society,
Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
For my heart speaks they are welcome.
First Murderer appears at the door
See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.
Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst:
Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
Approaching the door
'Tis better thee without than he within.
My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good
That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect,
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
As broad and general as the casing air:
But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow
Exit Murderer
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
May't please your highness sit.
The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place
Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
Were the graced person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
To grace us with your royal company.
Here is a place reserved, sir.
Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?
Thou canst not say I did it: never shake
Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.
Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again be well: if much you note him,
You shall offend him and extend his passion:
Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to
Impostors to true fear, would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,
Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
If charnel-houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes
What, quite unmann'd in folly?
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Your noble friends do lack you.
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO
Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes
I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine is blanched with fear.
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him. At once, good night:
Stand not upon the order of your going,
Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH
It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;
Augurs and understood relations have
By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
The secret'st man of blood. What is the night?
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
I hear it by the way; but I will send:
There's not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:
Exeunt
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