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  • 21st Century, House Party...
  • Ay, madam. But he returns again tonight.
  • Madam, I will.
  • Say to the king, I would attend his leisureFor a few words.
  • Is Banquo gone from court?
  • We have scorched the snake, not killed it.She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor maliceRemains in danger of her former tooth.But let the frame of things disjoint, Both the worlds suffer,Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleepIn the affliction of these terrible dreamsThat shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,Than, on the torture of the mind, to lieIn restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave,After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.Treason has done his worst. Nor steel, nor poison,Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,Can touch him further.
  • Nought's had, all's spent,Where our desire is got without content.'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.How now, my lord. Why do you keep alone,Of sorriest fancies your companions making,Using those thoughts which should indeed have diedWith them they think on? Things without all remedyShould be without regard — what's done is done.
  • So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you.Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue.Unsafe the while the while, that we must lave our honors In these flattering streams, and make our faces Vizards to our hearts, disguising what they are.
  • Come on;Gentle, my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.
  • O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife.Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
  • You must leave this.
  • There's comfort yet; they are assailable;Then, be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flownHis cloistered flight, ere to black Hecate's summonsThe shard-born beetle with his drowsy humsHath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be doneA deed of dreadful note.
  • But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
  • What's to be done?
  • Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,Till thou applaud the deed. Come, sealing night...
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