Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word;
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.

Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
Bru. Peace then! no words.
Cli.

Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius.
Dar.

Cli. O Dardanius!

Dar. O Clitus!

[Whispers.

I'll rather kill myself.

[Whispers.

Shall I do such a deed?

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Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
Vol. What says my lord?

Bru.

Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Cæsar hath appear❜d to me
Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields:
I know my hour is come.

Vol.
Not so, my lord.
Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.

20

[Low alarums.

Good Volumnius,

Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than tarry till they push us.

Thou know'st that we two went to school together:
Even for that our love of old, I prithee,

Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.

[Alarum still.

Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,

My heart doth joy that yet in all my life

I found no man but he was true to me.

I shall have glory by this losing day
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.

So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history:

Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

30

40

[Alarum. Cry within, “Fly, fly, fly!”

Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.

Bru.

Hence! I will follow.

[Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius.

I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord:

Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it:
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?

Stra. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
Bru. Farewell, good Strato. [Runs on his sword.] Cæ-

sar, now be still:

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

50

[Dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army.

Oct. What man is that?

Mes. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala: The conquerors can but make a fire of him;

For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.

Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,

That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.

Oct. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Oct. Do so, good Messala.

Mes. How died my master, Strato?

Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,

That did the latest service to my master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:

All the conspirators save only he

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He only, in a general honest thought

And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements

So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world "This was a man!"

Oct. According to his virtues let us use him,
With all respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.
So call the field to rest; and let's away,
" part the glories of this happy day.

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70

80

[Exeunt.

First Witch. When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Sec. Witch. When the hurlyburly's done,

When the battle's lost and won.

Third Witch. That will be ere the set of sun.

First Witch. Where the place?

Sec. Witch.

Upon the heath.

Third Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

First Witch. I come, Graymalkin!

Sec. Witch. Paddock calls.

Third Witch. Anon.

All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

10

[Exeunt.

And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-"Give me,"

quoth I:

Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries.

Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:

But in a sieve I'll thither sail,

And, like a rat without a tail,

I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

Sec. Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

First Witch. Thou'rt kind.

Third Witch. And I another.

First Witch. I myself have all the other,

And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know

I' the shipman's card.

I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary se'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.

Sec. Witch. Show me, show me.

First Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,

Wreck'd as homeward he did come.

Third Witch. A drum, a drum!

Macbeth doth come.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine and thrice to mine

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! the charm's wound up.

Enter MACBETH and BANQUO,

10

20

[Drum within.

30

Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How fair is't call'd to Forres?

So wither'd and so wild in their attire,

What are these

40

That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught

That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her chappy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret

That you are so.

Macb.

Speak, if you can: what are you?

First Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!

Sec. Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!

Third Witch. All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!

Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace and great prediction
Of noble having and of royal hope,

That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
If you can look into the seeds of time,

And say which grain will grow and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favours nor your hate.

First Witch. Hail!

Sec. Witch. Hail!

Third Witch. Hail!

First Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

Sec. Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.

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60

Third Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

First Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:

By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis;

But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,

A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief,

70

No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?
Macb. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!
Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root

That takes the reason prisoner?

Mach. Your children shall be kings.
Ban.

You shall be king.

Mach. And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
Ban. To the selfsame tune and words.

Who's here?

Enter Ross and ANGUS.

80