Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the Reafon prisoner?

Mach. Your children fhall be Kings.
Ban. You fhall be King.

Mach. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?
Ban. To th' felf fame tune, and words; who's here?
Enter Roffe and Angus.

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccefs; and when he reads
Thy perfonal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praifes do contend,
Which fhould be thine, or his. Silenc'd with That,
In viewing o'er the reft o'th' felf-fame day,
He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thy felf didft make,.
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,
Came Poft on Poft; and every one did bear
Thy praifes in his Kingdom's great defence:
And pour'd them down before him..
Ang. We are fent,

To give thee, from our royal Mafter, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee.

Roffe. And for an earneft of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:: In which Addition, hail, moft worthy Thane!

For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the Devil speak true?
Mach. The Thane of Cawdor lives;

Why do you dress me in his borrow'd robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet;

But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deferves to lofe. Whether he was

This Paffage of

Quality of laying to Sleep; or of driving into Madness, if a more than ordinary Quantity of them be taken. Boethius, I dare fay, our Poet had an Eye to : and, I think, it fairly accounts for his Mention of the infane Root.

Combin'd

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 treafons capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb. Glamis and Thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains.

Afide.

[To Angus.

Do you not hope, your children fhall be Kings?

[To Banquo.

When thofe that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no lefs to them?

Ban. That, trufted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the Crown,
Befides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis ftrange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The inftruments of Darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honeft trifles, to betray us

In deepest confequence.

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

Mach. Two truths are told,

[To Rofie and Angus.

As happy prologues to the fwelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen

This fupernatural Solliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good. — If ill,

Why hath it giv'n me earnest of fuccess,
Commencing in a truth? I'm Thane of Cawdor.
If good; why do I yield to that fuggeftion,
Whofe horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? prefent feats (7)

[Afide.

Are

Are less than horrible Imaginings.] Macbeth, while he is projecting the Murder, which he afterwards puts in Execution, is thrown into the most agonizing Affright at the Profpect of it: which foon recovering from, thus he reasons on the Nature of his Disorder. But Imaginings are so far from being more or less than prefent Fears, that they are the fame Things under different Words. Shakespeare certainly wrote;

-prefent

Are lefs than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whofe murther yet is but fantastical,
Shakes fo my fingle state of man, that Function
Es fmother'd in furmife; and nothing is,

But what is not.

Ban. Look, how our Partner's rapt !

Macb. If Chance will have me King, why, Chance

Ban. New Honours, come upon him,

[Afide.

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

Mach. Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs thro' the roughest day.
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we ftay upon your leisure.
Mach. Give me your favour: my dull brain was
wrought

With things forgot. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are regiftred where every day I turn

The leaf to read them Let us tow'rd the King; Think, upon what hath chanc'd; and at more time, [To Banquo. (The Interim having weigh'd it,) let us fpeak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban. Very gladly.

Macb. 'Till then, enough: come, friends. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Palace.

Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and attendants.

King.TS execution done on Cawdor yet?

King-Is

Or not those in commiffion yet return'd?

e. When I come to execute this Murder, I fhall find it much lefs dreadful than my frighted Imagination now prefents it to A confideration drawn from the Nature of the Imagination. Mr. Warburton.

me.

Mal

Mal. My liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that faw him die; who did report,
That very frankly he confefs'd his treasons;
Implor'd your Highness' pardon, and fet 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.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's conftruction in the face:
He was a gentleman, on whom I built
An abfolute trust.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus.

O worthieft Coufin!

The fin of my ingratitude e'en now

Was heavy on me. Thou'rt fo far before,
That fwifteft wing of recompence is flow,

To overtake thee. 'Would, thou'dft lefs deferv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I've left to fay,
More is thy due, than more than all can pay.
Macb. The fervice and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays it felf. Your Highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties

Are to your Throne, and State, children and fervants ;,
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe tow'rd your love and honour.

King. Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
Thou haft no less deferv'd, and must be known
No lefs to have done fo: let me enfold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.

Ban. There if I grow,
The harveft is your own..
King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton in fulness, feek to hide themselves

In drops of forrow. Sons, kinfmen, Thanes,
And you whofe Places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our eftate upon

Our eldest Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must,
Not unaccompanied, inveft him only ;.

But figns of Noblenefs, like ftars, fhall fhine
Hence to Inverness,

On all defervers.

And bind us further to you.

Macb. The Reft is Labour, which is not us'd for

you;

I'll be my felf the harbinger, and make joyful

The Hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my
leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

Macb. The Prince of Cumberland!

a step,

On which I muft fall down, or elfe o'er-leap, [Afide.
For in my way it lyes. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light fee my black and deep defires;
The Eye wink at the hand yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to fee.
King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full fo valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed ;
Ι

Let us after him,

Whofe care is gone before to bid us welcome:

It is a banquet to me.

It is a peerless Kinfman..

[Exit.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's
Caftle, at Inverness.

Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.

Lady. THEY met me in the day of fuccefs; and I have learn'd by the perfecteft report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burnt in defire to queftion them further, they made themfelves air, into which they vanish'd. While I ftood rapt in the wonder of it, came Miives from the King, who all hail'd me Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, thefe weird fifters faluted

me,