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There's no art

      To find the mind's construction in the face:

      He was a gentleman on whom I built 290

      An absolute trust.

      [Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS]

      O worthiest cousin!

      The sin of my ingratitude even now

      Was heavy on me: thou art so far before 295

      That swiftest wing of recompense is slow

      To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved,

      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. 300

      Macbeth. 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 every thing 305

      Safe toward your love and honour.

      Duncan. Welcome hither:

      I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

      To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,

      That hast no less deserved, nor must be known 310

      No less to have done so, let me enfold thee

      And hold thee to my heart.

      Banquo. There if I grow,

      The harvest is your own.

      Duncan. My plenteous joys, 315

      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 320

      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. 325

      Macbeth. The rest is labour, which is not used for you:

      I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful

      The hearing of my wife with your approach;

      So humbly take my leave.

      Duncan. My worthy Cawdor! 330

      Macbeth. [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, 335

      Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

      [Exit]

      Duncan. 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, 340

      Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:

      It is a peerless kinsman.

      [Flourish. Exeunt]

      Act I, Scene 5

      Inverness. Macbeth’s castle.

      [Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter]

      Lady Macbeth. 'They met me in the day of success: and I have 345

      learned by the perfectest report, they have more in

      them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire

      to question them further, they made themselves air,

      into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in

      the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who 350

      all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title,

      before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred

      me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that

      shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver

      thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou 355

      mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being

      ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it

      to thy heart, and farewell.'

      Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be

      What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; 360

      It is too full o' the milk of human kindness

      To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;

      Art not without ambition, but without

      The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,

      That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, 365

      And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis,

      That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it;

      And that which rather thou dost fear to do

      Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither,

      That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; 370

      And chastise with the valour of my tongue

      All that impedes thee from the golden round,

      Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

      To have thee crown'd withal.

      [Enter a Messenger] 375

      What is your tidings?

      Messenger. The king comes here to-night.

      Lady Macbeth. Thou'rt mad to say it:

      Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,

      Would have inform'd for preparation. 380

      Messenger. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming:

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