William Shakespeare: Macbeth

ACT I. 3. SCENE III. A heath. (continued)

MACBETH.
Give me your favor:--my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn
The leaf to read them.--Let us toward the king.--
Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.

BANQUO.
Very gladly.

MACBETH.
Till then, enough.--Come, friends.

[Exeunt.]