Macbeth, Act 3, Scene 1

Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the Weird Women promis’d; and, I fear, Thou play’dst 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.

You have it all now: King, Cawdor, Glamis, everything the Weird Women promised — and I'm afraid you played very foully to get it. Yet it was also said that it would not remain with your descendants, but that I myself would be the root and father of many kings. If truth comes from them — and their words shine on you, Macbeth — then why, given the truths they made good in your case, may they not be my oracles too, and raise my hopes? But be quiet; say no more.

Here’s our chief guest.

Here is our most important guest.

If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming.

If he had been forgotten, it would have been like a gap in our great feast, and entirely improper.

Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir, And I’ll request your presence.

Tonight we are holding a formal supper, sir, and I ask you to be there.

Let your Highness Command upon me, to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie For ever knit.

Let your Highness give me your commands; my duties are tied to them with a knot that can never be undone, forever.

Ride you this afternoon?

Are you riding this afternoon?

Ay, my good lord.

Yes, my good lord.

We should have else desir’d your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous) In this day’s council; but we’ll take tomorrow. Is’t far you ride?

Otherwise we would have wanted your good advice — which has always been both serious and profitable — in today's council; but we'll have it tomorrow instead. Is it far that you ride?

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.

As far, my lord, as will use up the time between now and supper. Unless my horse goes better than usual, I'll have to borrow an hour or two from the night, in the dark.

Fail not our feast.

Don't miss our feast.

My lord, I will not.

My lord, I will not.

We hear our bloody cousins are bestow’d 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?

We hear that our bloodstained cousins have settled in England and in Ireland, not admitting their cruel murder of their father, and filling those who listen to them with strange inventions. But we'll talk of that tomorrow, when we will also have matters of state that need us both together. Hurry to your horse. Goodbye, until you come back tonight. Is Fleance going with you?

Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon’s.

Yes, my good lord: our time is pressing us.

I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.—

I hope your horses are swift and sure-footed; and so I entrust you to their backs. Farewell.

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.

Let every man be master of his own time until seven tonight. To make company all the more welcome, we will keep to ourself alone until supper time. Until then, God be with you.

Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men Our pleasure?

You there, a word with you. Are those men waiting on our command?

They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

They are, my lord, outside the palace gate.

Bring them before us.

Bring them in to us.

To be thus is nothing, But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature Reigns that which would be fear’d: ’tis much he dares; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety. There is none but he Whose being I do fear: and under him My genius is rebuk’d; 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 hail’d him father to a line of kings: Upon my head they plac’d a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding. If’t be so, For Banquo’s issue have I fil’d my mind; For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d; Put rancours 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 th’ utterance!—Who’s there?—

To be king is nothing unless I am safely king. My fears about Banquo are lodged deep, and in his kingly nature there rules the very thing that should be feared. He dares a great deal; and along with that fearless temper of his mind, he has a wisdom that guides his courage to act safely. He is the only man whose existence I fear; and my guardian spirit is put down in his presence, as Mark Antony's was, they say, by Caesar. He scolded the sisters when they first gave me the title of king, and told them to speak to him; then, like prophets, they hailed him as father to a line of kings. On my head they placed a crown that will bear no fruit, and put a barren sceptre in my grip, to be wrenched from it by a hand from another family, since no son of mine will follow me. If that is how it is, then I have defiled my mind for Banquo's children; for them I have murdered the gracious Duncan; for them alone I have poured bitterness into the cup of my peace, and given my everlasting jewel — my soul — to the common enemy of mankind, to make them kings, Banquo's offspring kings! Rather than that, come, fate, into the lists, and be my champion in a fight to the death. — Who's there?

Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

Now go to the door, and wait there until we call.

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

Wasn't it yesterday that we talked together?

It was, so please your Highness.

It was, if it please your Highness.

Well then, now Have you consider’d 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, pass’d in probation with you How you were borne in hand, how cross’d, the instruments, Who wrought with them, and all things else that might To half a soul and to a notion craz’d Say, “Thus did Banquo.”

Well then, have you thought about what I said? Do you understand that it was he who, in the past, kept you down in such bad fortune — when you thought it was our innocent self who did it? I proved this to you at our last meeting; I went through the evidence with you, showing how you were deceived, how you were thwarted, the means used, who worked them, and everything else that would make even a half-wit or a cracked mind say, "Banquo did this."

You made it known to us.

You made it clear to us.

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 gospell’d, To pray for this good man and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave, And beggar’d yours forever?

I did; and I went further, which is the point of this second meeting. Do you find patience so dominant in your nature that you can let this pass? Are you so full of the gospel that you will pray for this good man and his children, when his heavy hand has bowed you toward the grave and made beggars of your families forever?

We are men, my liege.

We are men, my lord.

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 valu’d file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him clos’d; 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’ th’ 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.

Yes, in the general list you pass for men; just as hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, shaggy lapdogs, water-dogs and half-wolves are all called by the name of dogs. But the list that grades them by value distinguishes the swift one, the slow one, the clever one, the watchdog, the hunter, each according to the gift that generous nature has enclosed in him; by that he gets a particular title, separate from the list that writes them all down as the same. And it is the same with men. Now, if you have a place in that ranking, not in the lowest rank of manhood, say so; and I will put into your hearts a piece of business whose carrying out will remove your enemy and fasten you to our heart and love — for while he lives our health is only sickly, and with his death it would be perfect.

I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Hath so incens’d that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.

I am a man, my lord, whom the vile blows and beatings of the world have so enraged that I don't care what I do to spite the world.

And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it or be rid on’t.

And I am another, so worn out by disasters and knocked about by fortune, that I would gamble my life on any chance, either to improve it or be rid of it.

Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy.

Both of you know that Banquo was your enemy.

True, my lord.

True, my lord.

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 barefac’d 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.

He is mine too, and at such a bloody sword's length that every minute he exists is a thrust at my very life. And though I could sweep him out of my sight with naked power and simply say my will justified it, I must not, because of certain friends who are both his and mine, whose love I can't throw away; I would have to mourn the fall of the man I myself struck down. And that's why I court your help, hiding the business from the public eye for various weighty reasons.

We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us.

We will, my lord, do what you order us.

Though our lives—

Even if our lives—

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’ th’ 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. I’ll come to you anon.

Your courage shines out of you. Within an hour at most I will tell you where to position yourselves, give you the exact information about the timing, the precise moment; for it must be done tonight, and some distance from the palace — always remembering that I need to stay clear of suspicion. And with him — to leave no rough patches or flaws in the work — Fleance his son, who keeps him company, whose removal matters no less to me than his father's, must meet his fate in that dark hour. Make up your minds by yourselves. I'll come to you shortly.

We are resolv’d, my lord.

We have made up our minds, my lord.

I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.

I'll call for you right away: wait inside.

It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight, If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.

It's settled. Banquo, if your soul's flight is to find heaven, it must find it tonight.