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Histories and Tragedies: Macbeth, 1.3.118-143

Line numbers are from the Bevington Necessary Shakespeare.

The greatest is behind.
[To ROSS and ANGUS.]
                           Thanks for your pains.
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
Promised no less to them?                                                                       [120]

BANQUO:                           That trusted home
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray's                                                  [125]
In deepest consequence.
Cousins, a word, I pray you.

MACBETH:                           [Aside] Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.
This supernatural soliciting                                                                    [130]
Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair                                             [135]
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man that function                                  [140]
Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
But what is not.

BANQUO:                           Look, how our partner's rapt.

MACBETH: [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
Without my stir.
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