Sold.

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 villainies 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;
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, valliant 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 heels,
But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,
With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.

Dun.

Dismay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Sold.

Yes,

As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were

As cannons overcharg' d with double cracks;
So they

Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell :

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 penthouse 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.

3 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.

[Drum within.

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 these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, 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 atonce her choppy 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? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth!-Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis !

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth!-Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth, that 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.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 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

none.

So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

Macb. 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, 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

Ang. Who was the thane lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was Combin'd with Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not: But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd, Have overthrown him.

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,
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.
Macb. If chance will have me king, why chance
may crown me,

Without my stir. Ban.

New honours come upon him Like our strange garments,-cleave not to their mould, But with the aid of use. Maob. Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your lei

sure.

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.
Ban.
Very gladly.
Macb. Till then enough. Come, friends.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Fores. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, 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 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 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, RosзE, 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.

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 everything
Safe toward your love and honour.
Dun.

Welcome hither.
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,

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.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd 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. The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap;

[Aside.

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 valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed,-
It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome;
It is a peerless kinsman.

;

[Exit.

[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 shall 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 promised 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 wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst

Lady M.

Give him tending;

He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse
[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 a pace between
The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

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!

Shall sun that morrow see!

And when goes hence?

Oh, never

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye-
Your hand-your tongue; look like the innocent
flower;

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall, to all our nights and days to come,
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear;
Leave all the rest to me.

Only look up clear;

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The same. Before the Castle.
Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending.
Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO,
LENOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants.
Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
Ban.

This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.
Where they ost breed and haunt, I have observ'd
The air is delicate.

Euter Lady MACBETH.

Dun. See, see!-Our honoured hostess ! The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God yield us for our pains, And thank us for your trouble. Lady M.

All our service, In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business, to contend

Against those honours, deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house. For those of old,
And the late dignities heaped up to them,
We rest your hermits.
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 a spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.
Lady M.

Have theirs, themselves,

compt,

Your servants ever
and what is theirs, in

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.

SCENE VII.-The same. A Room in the Castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants, with dishes and service. Then enter MACBETH.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly. If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success,-that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come. But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inveutor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek-bath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other. How now? what news?

Wherein you dress'd yourself? Hath it slept since ?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' the adage?

Macb.

Pr'ythee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. Lady M. What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place, Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face. Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,

And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you Have done to this.

Macb.

If we should fail

We fail!

Lady M. But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep (Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassel so convince, That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only. When in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie, as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon The unguarded Duncan? What not put upon His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell?

Macb

Bring forth men-children only;

For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have done't?

Lady M.

Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death ?

Macb.

I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show; False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt.

Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed. He hath been in unusual pleasure, and

Sent forth great largess to your officers;
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
In measureless content.

Macb.

Being unprepar'd, Our will became the servant to defect, Which else should free have wrought.

Ban.

All's well.

I think not of thems

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters;
To you they have show'd some truth.
Macb.
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
Would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.

Ban.
Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
It shall make honour for you.

Ban.

At your kind'st leisure.

So I lose none

In seeking to augment it, but still keep
Ny bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsell'd.

Macb.
Good repose the while.
Ban. Thanks, sir; the like to you.

[Exit.

Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is

ready,

She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.

[Exit Servant.

Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch

thee;

1 have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but
A dagger of the mind,-a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleeper ;-witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings.

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter Lady MАСВЕТН.

[Exit.

Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold;

What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire. Hark!
Peace!

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman
Which gives the stern'st good night. He is about it;
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores. I have drugg'd
their possets,

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.

Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-What ho!

Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, And 'tis not done!-The attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready,He could not miss them. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't. My husband?

Lady M.

Macb. This is a sorry sight!

As I descended?

Donalbain. [Looking on his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought to say a sorry sight. Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried Murder!

That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them :

But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
Again to sleep.

Lady M. There are two lodged together.

Macb. One cried, God bless us! and Amen the other;

As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands.
Listening their fear, I could not say Amen,
When they did say God bless us!
Lady M.
Consider it not so deeply.
Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?
I had most need of blessing, and Amen
Stuck in my throat.
Lady M.
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no
more!

Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Ay, 'would thou

couldst !

SCENE III.-The same.

Enter a Porter.-[Knocking within.]

[Knock.

[Exeunt.

Porter. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock: who's there, i' the name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty. Come in time; have napkins enough about you: here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking.] Knock, knock: who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock: who's there? "Faith here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. [Knocking.] Knock, knock: never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon: I pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate. Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?

Enter MACDUFF and LENOX.

Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macd. What three things does drink especially provoke?

Port. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him : it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to: in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.