Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 4

Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return’d?

Has Cawdor been executed? Haven't the men given that assignment come back yet?

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 confess’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 died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow’d As ’twere a careless trifle.

My lord, they haven't returned yet. But I have spoken with someone who saw him die, and he reported that Cawdor very openly confessed his treasons, begged your Highness's pardon, and showed deep repentance. Nothing in his life suited him as well as the leaving of it; he died like a man who had rehearsed his own death, throwing away the most precious thing he owned as if it were a worthless trifle.

There’s no art To find the mind’s construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.

There is no skill that lets you read the mind's makeup in the face. He was a gentleman in whom I placed complete trust.

O worthiest cousin! The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before, That swiftest wing of recompense 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.

Oh, my worthiest cousin! The sin of my ingratitude was weighing on me just now. You are so far ahead of me that even the swiftest wing of reward is too slow to catch up with you. I wish you had deserved less, so that the balance of thanks and payment could have been mine to give! All I can say is this: you are owed more than everything I have can pay.

The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness’ part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honour.

The service and loyalty I owe you pay themselves simply by being performed. Your Highness's part is to receive our duties; and our duties are to your throne and your state like children and servants, who do only what they should by doing everything to keep your love and honour safe.

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 infold thee And hold thee to my heart.

Welcome here. I have begun to plant you, and I will work to make you grow fully. — Noble Banquo, you have deserved no less, and it must be known that you have done no less, let me embrace you and hold you to my heart.

There if I grow, The harvest is your own.

If I grow there, the harvest is yours.

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 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.

My abundant joys, unruly in their fullness, try to hide themselves in drops of sorrow. — Sons, kinsmen, thanes, and you whose places are nearest to me, know that we will settle our kingdom on our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name from now on the Prince of Cumberland. And that honour must not clothe him alone, unaccompanied; instead signs of nobility, like stars, shall shine on everyone who deserves them. — From here on to Inverness, and bind us still closer to you.

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.

Rest itself is labour when it isn't spent for you. I'll be my own messenger, and make my wife joyful with the news of your coming. So, I humbly take my leave.

My worthy Cawdor!

My worthy Cawdor!

[Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland!—That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o’erleap, 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.

[Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step I must either fall down on or leap over, because it lies in my path. Stars, hide your fires! Don't let light see my black and deep desires. Let the eye shut itself against the hand; yet let that thing be done which the eye is afraid to look at once it is done.

True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant; And in his commendations I am fed. It is a banquet to me. Let’s after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman.

True, worthy Banquo! He is every bit that brave, and praising him feeds me. It is a banquet to me. Let's follow him, since his care has gone ahead to prepare our welcome. He is a kinsman without equal.