_Len._ Ay, my good lord. _Macb._ Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits: The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it: from this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise; Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls That trace his line. No boasting like a fool: This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool." And his purpose does not cool--for the whole Family are murdered. When, then, took place the murder of Banquo? Why, a week or two after the Murder of Duncan. A very short time indeed, then, intervened between the first and the last of these Murders. And yet from those pictures of Scotland, painted in England for our information and horror, we have before us a long, long time, all filled up with butchery over all the land! But I say there had been no such butchery--or anything resembling it. There was, as yet, little amiss with Scotland. Look at the _linking_ of Acts II. and III. End of Act II., Macbeth is gone to Scone--to be invested. Beginning of Act III., Banquo says, in soliloquy, in Palace of Fores, "Thou hast it _now_." I ask, when is _this_ NOW? Assuredly just after the Coronation. The Court was moved from Scone to Fores, which, we may gather from finding Duncan there formerly, to be the usual Royal Residence. "Enter Macbeth as King." "Our great Feast"--our "solemn Supper"--"this day's Council"--all have the aspect of new taking on the style of Royalty. "Thou hast it NOW," is formal--weighed--and in a position that gives it authority--at the very beginning of an Act--therefore intended to mark time--a very pointing of the finger on the dial. BULLER. Good image--short and apt. TALBOYS. Let me perpend. BULLER. Do, sir, let him perpend. NORTH. Banquo _fears_ "Thou play'dst most foully for it;" he goes no farther--not a word of any tyranny done. All the style of an incipient, _dangerous_ Rule--clouds, but no red rain yet. And I need not point out to you, Talboys, who carry Shakspeare unnecessarily in a secret pocket of that strange Sporting Jacket, which the more I look at it the greater is my wonder--that Macbeth's behaviour at the Banquet, on seeing Banquo nodding at him from his own stool, proves him to have been _then_ young in blood. "My strange and self-abuse Is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed."