SCENE II. The palace. The Tragedy of Macbeth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Macbeth  | Act 3, Scene 2 

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 Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant  LADY MACBETH  Is Banquo gone from court? 

 Servant  Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. 

 LADY MACBETH  Say to the king, I would attend his leisure 

 For a few words. 

 Servant  Madam, I will. 



 Exit  LADY MACBETH  Nought's had, all's spent, 

 Where our desire is got without content: 

 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy 

 Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. 



 Enter MACBETH  How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, 

 Of sorriest fancies your companions making, 

 Using those thoughts which should indeed have died 

 With them they think on? Things without all remedy 

 Should be without regard: what's done is done. 

 MACBETH  We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: 

 She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice 

 Remains in danger of her former tooth. 

 But let the frame of things disjoint, both the 

 worlds suffer, 

 Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep 

 In the affliction of these terrible dreams 

 That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, 

 Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, 

 Than on the torture of the mind to lie 

 In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; 

 After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; 

 Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, 

 Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, 

 Can touch him further. 

 LADY MACBETH  Come on; 

 Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; 

 Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. 

 MACBETH  So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: 

 Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; 

 Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: 

 Unsafe the while, that we 

 Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, 

 And make our faces vizards to our hearts, 

 Disguising what they are. 

 LADY MACBETH  You must leave this. 

 MACBETH  O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! 

 Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. 

 LADY MACBETH  But in them nature's copy's not eterne. 

 MACBETH  There's comfort yet; they are assailable; 

 Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown 

 His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons 

 The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums 

 Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done 

 A deed of dreadful note. 

 LADY MACBETH  What's to be done? 

 MACBETH  Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, 

 Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, 

 Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; 

 And with thy bloody and invisible hand 

 Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond 

 Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow 

 Makes wing to the rooky wood: 

 Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; 

 While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. 

 Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; 

 Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. 

 So, prithee, go with me. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Macbeth  | Act 3, Scene 2 

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