Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth.
HECATE, and three Witches.
Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers
Attendants, and Messengers.
SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, General of the The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Appart
SCENE, in the End of the Fourth Act, lies in England; through the rest of the Play, in Scotland; und, chiefly, at Macbeth's Castle.
SCENE II-A Camp near Forres. Alarum within. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM. DONALBAIN, LENOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.
Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.
Mal. This is the sergeant, Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought 'Gainst my captivity:-Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil, As thou didst leave it.
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 was supplied;2 And fortune on his damned quarrel siding, 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 valor's minion,
Carv'd out his passage, till he faced 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.
si. e. Supplied with light and heavy armed troops.
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
Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark No sooner justice had, with valor 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.
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannous overcharged with double cracks; So they
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: or memorize another Golgotha,
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Dun. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds;
They smack of honor both:-Go, get him surgeons [Exit Soldier, attended
Who comes here? Mal. The worthy thane of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look,
That seems to speak things strange.
Rosse. God save the king, Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? Rosse. From Fife, great king,
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, And fan our people cold.
Norway himself, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict: 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;-
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Wilch. Where hast thou been, sister?
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 1:
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 seven-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.
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So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!
1 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, 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 [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,
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: Silenced 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 thy self didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale," Came post with post; and every one did bear [Drum within. 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; To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.
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,1 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
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; That looks 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 fingers laying Upon her skinny lips: You should be women. And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.
Mach. 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;
Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honor, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine.
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 Combined with Norway; or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage; or that with both He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd, Have overthrown him. Mach. 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. Mach. 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 succes, Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggestin
As fast as they could be counted
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.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Mach. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
New honors come upon him. Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould,
Macb. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Macb. Give me your favor:-my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the Think upon what hath chanced: 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, cnough.-Come, friends.
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, [Aside.
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your tires! 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. [Exit. Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,a 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. [Flourish. Exeun:.
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 more in them than mortal knowledge. When I I have learned by the perfectest report, they have king.-burned in desire to question them further, they Whiles I stoot rapt in the wonder of it, came mis- made themselves—air, into which they vanished. sives 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 1 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 highly,
SCENE IV. Forres. 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,1 As 'twere a careless trifle.
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, 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. Mach. 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 every thing,
Safe toward your love and honor. Dun. Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labor 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 fullness, 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, Malcom; whom we name hereafter, The prince of Cumberland: which honor 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 labor, which is not used for you: I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful Ti.e. Which cleave not. 8 Time and opportunity. Pardon 1 Owned, possessed
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valor 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. Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Lady M. Thou'rt mad to say it: Would have inform'd for preparation.
Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is coming:
One of my fellows had the speed of him; Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message. He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse, Lady M. Give him tending,
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;1 That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake ny fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, your 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, Holt, hold! -Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Enter MACBEth. Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter' Thy letters have transported me beyond
2 Full as valiant as described. 4 Diadem. Supernatural.
3 Messengers. Deadly, murderous
8 Wrap as in a mantle
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