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Ang. We are sent,

To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,

Not pay thee.

Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,

He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:

In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!

L

For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the devil speak true?

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Mac. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you

dress me

In borrow'd robes ?

Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
Combin'd with Norway; or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Mac. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:

The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no less to them?

Ban. That, trusted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,

Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange :
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths;

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Win us with honest trifles, to betray us

In deepest consequence.-Cousins, a word I pray

you.

Mac. Two truths are told,

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.-
This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good :—If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,

But what is not.

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt.

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Mac. If chance will have me king, why, chance

may crown me,

Without my stir.

Ban. New honours come upon him

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Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use.

Mac. Come what come may;

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.

Mac.

Mac. Give me your favour:-my dull brain was

wrought

With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn

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The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the king.Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban. Very gladly.

Mac. 'Till then, enough.-Come, friends. [Exeunt.

Flourish.

SCENE IV.

Enter King, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN,
LENOX, and Attendants.

King. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd?

Mal. My liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confes'd his treasons;
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he dy'd
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

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King. There's no art,

To find the mind's construction in the face;
He was a gentleman on whom I built

An absolute trust. O worthiest cousin!

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Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.

The sin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me: thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompence is slow

To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Mac. The service and the loyalty I owe,

In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties: and our duties

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Are to your throne, and state, children, and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing every thing

Safe toward your love and honour.

King. Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known'
No less to have done so, let me enfold thee,

And hold thee to my heart.

Ban. There if I grow,

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The harvest is your own.

King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves

In drops of sorrow.-Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,

We will establish our estate upon

Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,

The prince of Cumberland: which honour must 300 Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,

But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine

On all deservers. From hence to Inverness

And bind us further to you.

Mac. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you: I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So, humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

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Mac. The prince of Cumberland!—That is a step, On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, [Aside. For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,

Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [ Exit. King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant ; And in his commendations I am fed ;

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,

Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome :

It is a peerless kinsman.

[Flourish.

Exeunt. 320

SCENE

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