one down; the son is fled. We have lost Best half of our affair. Well, let's away, and say how much is done. You know your own degrees; sit down: at first And last the hearty welcome. Thanks to your majesty. Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time We will require her welcome. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure The table round. There's blood on thy face. 'Tis Banquo's then. 'Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch'd? My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil. Most royal sir, Fleance is 'scaped. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casing air: But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature. Thanks for that: There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow We'll hear, ourselves, again. My royal lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, 'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it. Sweet remembrancer! Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both! May't please your highness sit. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the graced person of our Banquo present; Who may I rather challenge for unkindness Than pity for mischance! His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness To grace us with your royal company. The table's full. Here is a place reserved, sir. Where? Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? Which of you have done this? What, my good lord? Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at