SCENE 1. AN OPEN PLACE.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches. 1 Witch. WHEN shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2 Witch. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won.

3 Witch. That will be ere set of sun. 1 Witch. Where the place?

2 Witch. Upon the heath.

3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

1 Witch. I come, Graymalkin!

All. Paddock calls:-anon

Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

Seyton, an officer attending on Macbeth,
Son to Macduff

An English doctor. A Scotch doctor
A soldier. A porter. An old man.

Lady Macbeth.

Lady Macduff.

Soll. Doubtfully it stood;

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
(Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that,
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion,

Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;

Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. Hecate, and three Witches.

Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attend ants, and Messengers.

And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, 'Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark. No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, [heels, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of meu Began a fresh assault.

Dun. Dismay'd not this

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo ? Sold. Yes;

Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us.-

Dun. Great happiness!
Rosse. That now

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
'Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' Inch,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest.-Go, pronounce his death, And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath [exeunt.

won.

SCENE III. A HEATH.
Thunder. Enter three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

[lap,

1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her Aud mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'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.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 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 sev'n nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he did come. [drum within. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come.

714 M

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.

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? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! [of Cawdor! 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. [fear Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to Things that do sound so fair?-I'the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed [to Witches. Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner Ye 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, [not,
And say, which grain will grow, and which will
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favours nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

Enter Macbeth and Banquo. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores? What are So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, [these, 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 By each at once her choppy finger laying

[me,

8 Witch. Hail!

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! [none:

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! [more!
Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me
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,

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

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

[about?

Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban. You shall be king.

Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who's here?

Enter Rosse and Angus.

Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy success: and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine, or his. Silenc'd with that, In viewing o'er the rest o'the self-same day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale, Came post with post; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence. And pour'd them down before him. Ang. We are sent,

Macb. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!

The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains-
Do
you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?

Ban. That, trusted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.~

Cousins, a word, I pray you.

Macb. Two truths are told,

11.7

As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.-
This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor..
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,
But what is not.

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt.

smind

Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance Without my stir. [may crown me, Ban. New honours come upon him Like our strange garments; cleave not to their Scaven But with the aid of use. [mould, Macb. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your lei[was wrought Macb. Give me your favour:-my dull brain With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your Are register'd where every day I turn [pains 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.

2

sure.

SCENE IV.

FORES. A ROOM IN THE PALACE. Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donaibain, Lenox, and Attendants.

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd?

Mal. My liege,

But I have spoke

They are not yet come back.
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he 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,

All

To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman, on whom I built
An absolute trust.— O worthiest cousin!
Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.

4752

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 servants; Which do but what they should, by doing everg Safe toward your love and honour. ale[thing

Dun. Welcome hither: VERL

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 known
No less to have done so; let me infold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban. There if I grow,

70 34.5

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 hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honour must
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.
[you:
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for

i bi
10

U.

JAA &

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful 348
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman. [flourish; exeunt.

SCENE V.

INVERNESS. A ROOM IN MACBETH'S
CASTLE.

Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.

Lady M.-"They met me in the day of success; and I have learned, by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question

them further, they made themselves-air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is pro. mised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell."

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis'd.-Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o'the milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way. Thou would'st be great;
Art not without ambition; but without [highly,
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st
That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false,
And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'dst have,
great Glamis !

That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have
And that which rather thou dost fear to do, [it;
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise, with the valour of my tongue,
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.-What is your
tidings?

Enter an Attendant.

Attend. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M. Thou'rt mad to say it:

Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is One of my fellows had the speed of him; [coming: Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message.

Lady M. Give him tending,

hoarse,

He brings great news. The raven himself is
[exit Attendant.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep pace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring minis-
Wherever in your sightless substances [ters,
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold!-Great Glamis! worthy
Cawdor!

Enter Macbeth. Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter ! Thy letters have transported ine beyond

Dun. Where's the thane of Cawdor? We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well: And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath help him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest to-night.

Lady M. Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,

To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, Still to return your own.

Dun. Give me your hand:

Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.
[exeunt