The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

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, 13 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: 16 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. 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. Good Volumnius, 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. 28 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; 32
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: 40
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would
rest,

That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
[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? 48
Stra. Give me your hand first: fare you well,
my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-[He runs on
his sword.] Cæsar, now be still;

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. [Dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and 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;

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A desert Heath.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches.
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:

Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
As thou didst leave it.
Serg.

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together 8
Doubtful it stood;
And choke their art. The merciless Macdon-
wald-

Worthy to be a rebel, for to that

The multiplying villanies of nature

Do swarm upon him-from the western isles 12
Of kerns 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,-

i Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,

Hover through the fog and filthy air. [Exeunt. Like valour's minion carv'd out his passage

Till he fac'd the slave;

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

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Serg. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to

Dun. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive

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'll 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, 28 Wrack'd as homeward he did come.

[Drum within.

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.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is 't call'd to Forres? What are these,

So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth, Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present And yet are on 't? Live you? or are you death,

aught

That man may question? You seem to understand me,

By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,

Ross. 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, 96
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
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 100
To give thee from our royal master thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.

Ross. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:

In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine.

Ban.

105

What! can the devil speak true? Macb. The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes ?

Ang.

108

Who was the thane lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin'd

With those of Norway, or did line the rebel 112 With hidden help or vantage, or that with both He labour'd in his country's wrack, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd, Have overthrown him.

Macb. [Aside.] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:

The greatest is behind. [To Ross and ANGUS.] Thanks for your pains.

117

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