Disclaimer: Actually, I'm pretty sure Shakespeare's public property by now. Oh well, I'll just go ahead and say that the story of Macbeth and the characters Banquo and Macbeth belong to the good William Shakespeare who's been dead for a good long while now. At least he won't sue me.
Author's Note: In the short-lived scene of Banqo's death, this runs through his head after he tells his son to flee. And this is from the premise that Macbeth is the third Murderer, which is debated but in the end doesn't really matter.
Banquo:
[Aside] Why, upon what jury this murder just?
What evidence could these men so obtain,
That would damn my family to this fate?
A week past saw my blade unsheathed. O, sore!
Is this the crime for which they spill, to see
My blood across the ground alike their head?
To see my body lifeless as the man
Upon whom I no longer grant a thought?
Or are these some ordinary madmen
For the metals of a wond'ring noble?
Pause! O, betrayal! Here I see the face
Of a man to whom I once owed my trust,
With whom I've shared my sorrows and my guilt,
Traded worse times for better and that crossed!
So alight are his eyes, so ravenous
To see my pupils to th' opposite.
Feel that knife slice through the base o' my skull,
As it would a brick of half-melt butter,
And see the hand clutching the mortal tool
That connects to the arm and so until
The face is reached to which I owe my death!
O, Macbeth! O, dear friend, what have you done?
Why have you poisoned my life with this blade?
What could drive you to the death of a friend
Which, another day, would send you tremb'ling?
Were my suspicions not false? Was it you
Who so brutally and fatally did
Unto the good King as you're doing now?
O, would that we had never met those three,
Whose poisonous words and foul phrases
Must be the reason for your sin. Macbeth!
How could you give yourself to the feelings
They have brought, when I who had them, feld not!
Are you a weaker man than other nights?
Did a shiv'ring dog with a white-framed mouth
Unburden onto you its diseased jaws?
Or had this Macbeth been hiding under
The skirts of the noble Thane of Cawdor?
Nay, Cawdor was won'd by this new Macbeth,
Who was birthed by foul words of witches,
And who is slave to their fatal ideas.
Thane of Glamis, noble Thane of Glamis, is dead.
O, Macbeth, I see now your truth! -- O, slave!
[dies.]
