Document:  All > Shakespeare > Tragedies > Macbeth > Act I, scene VI

	[Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM,
	and Attendants]

DUNCAN: This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
	Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
	Unto our gentle senses.

BANQUO: This guest of summer,
	The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
	By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath
	Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
	Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
	Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:
	Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
	The air is delicate.


DUNCAN: See, see, our honour'd hostess!
	The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
	Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
	How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains,
	And thank us for your trouble.

LADY MACBETH: All our service
	In every point twice done and then done double
	Were poor and single business to contend
	Against those honours deep and broad wherewith
	Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,
	And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
	We rest your hermits.

DUNCAN: Where's the thane of Cawdor?
	We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose
	To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
	And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
	To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
	We are your guest to-night.

LADY MACBETH: Your servants ever
	Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt,
	To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
	Still to return your own.

DUNCAN: Give me your hand;
	Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
	And shall continue our graces towards him.
	By your leave, hostess.



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