2 Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sister, where thou ? 1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd: Give me, quoth I: Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon2 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, Sleep shall, neither night nor day, Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine, 2 Witch. Show me, show me. Wreck'd, as homeward he did come. [Drum within. Avaunt, begone. 2 A scurvy woman fed on offals. 3 Sailor's chart. + Accursed. 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. Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. Mach. 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 at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. 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, 5 Prophetick sisters. 6 Are ye fantastical, or that indeed That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not: And say, which grain will grow, and which will not; 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; No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence With such prophetick greeting?-Speak, I charge [Witches vanish. you. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them: -Whither are they vanish'd? • Supernatural, spiritual. • Rapturously affected. 7 Estate. Mach. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid! Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak about? Or have we eaten of the insane root,9 Macb. Your children shall be kings. Ban. 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, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; 9 The root which makes insane. He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine. Ban. What, can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes ? 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, And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 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 2 Title. 3 Stimulate. VOL. IV. P |