Excerpt: ...Sonne is fled 2. We haue lost Best halfe of our Affaire 1. Well, let's away, and say how much is done. Exeunt. Scaena Quarta. Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants. Macb. You know your owne degrees, sit downe: At first and last, the hearty welcome Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society, And play the humble Host: Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time We will require her welcome La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends, For my heart speakes, they are welcome. Enter first Murtherer. Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st, Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within. Is he dispatch'd? Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him Mac. Thou art the best o'th' Cut-throats, Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans: If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill Mur. Most Royall Sir Fleans is scap'd Macb. Then comes my Fit againe: I had else beene perfect; Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke, As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre: But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe? Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a Death to Nature Macb. Thankes for that: There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed, No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow Wee'l heare our selues againe. Exit Murderer. Lady. My Royall Lord, You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making: 'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home: From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony, Meeting were bare without it. Enter the Ghost of...
- Paperback | 26 pages
- 189 x 246 x 1mm | 68g
- 13 Sep 2013
- Illustrations, black and white