Read Macbeth Online

A Restoration Version of Act III 147 

Macb. Is he dispatch' d ? 

Mur. My Lord his Throat is cut ; that I did for him. 

Macb. Thou art the best of Cut throats; 
Yet he is good that did the like for Flean. 

Mur. Most Royal Sir, he scap'd. 

Macb. Then comes my fit again, I had else been perfect, 
Firm as a Pillar founded on a Rock! 
As unconfin'd as the free spreading Air. 
But now I'm check'd with sawcy Doubts and fears. 
But Banquo's safe? 

Mur. Safe in a Ditch he lies, 
With twenty gaping wounds on his head, 
The least of which was Mortal. 

Macb. There the ground Serpent lies ; the worm that's fled 
Hath Nature, that in time will Venom breed. 
Though at present it wants a Sting, to morrow, 
To morrow you shall hear further. (Exit. Mur. 

La. Macb. My Royal Lord, you spoil the Feast, 
The Sauce to Meat is chearfulness. 

Enter the Ghost of Banquo and sits in Macbeth's place. 

Macb. Let good digestion wait on Appetite, 
And Health on both. 

Len. May it please your Highness to sit. 

Macb. Had we but here our Countreys honour; 
Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present, 
Whom we may justly challenge for unkindness. 

Seat. His absence Sir, 
Lays blame upon his promise; please your Highness, 
To grace us with your company? 

Macb. Yes, Fie sit down. The table's full 

Len. Here is a place reserv'd Sir: 

Macb. Where Sir? 

Len. Here. What is't that moves your Highness? 

Macb. Which of you have done this? 

Lords. Done what?