We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks, Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee.
And, for an earnest of a greater honor, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane, For it is thine
The rest is labor 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.
Thou 'rt mad to say it. Is not thy master with him, who, were ’t so, Would have informed for preparation?
The king comes here tonight.
O, never Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue. Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under ’t. He that’s coming Must be provided for; and you shall put This night’s great business into my dispatch, Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
All our service, In every point twice done and then done double, Were poor and single business to contend Against those honors deep and broad wherewith Your majesty loads our house. For those of old, And the late dignities heaped up to them, We rest your hermits.