William Shakespeare's Macbeth, his famous "Scottish play" is the story of a good man turned evil by a dark ambition he cannot control.
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Act I. Scene IV.

Scene IV.—Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM,
DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants.

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?
Mal. My liege,
They are not yet come back; but I have spoke
With one that saw him die; who did report
That very frankly be confess'd his treasons,
Implor'd your highness' pardon and set forth
A deep repentance. Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.
Dun. There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.

O worthiest cousin!
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before
That swiftest wing of recompense is glow
To overtake thee; would thou hadst
That the proportion both of thanks and pay
Might have been mine! only I have left to say
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macb. The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties
Are to your throne and state, children and
Which do but what they should, by doing every-
Safe toward your love and honour.
Dun. Welcome hith
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be know
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban. There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
Dun. My plenteous joys
Wanton In fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereaft
The Prince of Cumberland; which honour m
Not unaccompanied invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us
for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach

So, humbly take my leave.
Dun. My worthy Cawdor
Macb. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland
that is a step'
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let's after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt.
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