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;-

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 de

ceive

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 won.

SCENE III.-A Heath.

[Exeunt.

Thunder. Enter the Three WITCHES.

1 Witch. 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 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 ||,

* Mock.

Avaunt, begone.

+ Shakspeare means Mars.

A scurvy woman fed on offals.

Sailor's chart.

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. Shew me, shew 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.

[Drum within.

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 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.

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 fantasticalt, or that indeed Which outwardly ye shew? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction

* Prophetic sisters. + Supernatural, spiritual.

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 [Witches vanish.

you.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them:-Whither are they va

nish'd?

Macb. 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,
That takes the reason prisoner ?

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 RosSSE and ANGUS.

Rosse. The king hath happily received, Macbeth,

The news of thy success: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,

* Estate.

+ Rapturously affected.

‡ The root which makes insane.

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 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;
To herald thee into his sight not pay thee.

Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor,
In which addition t, 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
Combined 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 proved,
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, Promised 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,

As fast as they could be counted.
Stimulate.

+ Title.

Incitement.

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.

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 favour -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 king.-
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, 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; Implored your highness' pardon; and set forth A deep repentance: nothing in his life

• Temptation.

+Firmly fixed.

Pardon.

The powers of action are oppressed by conjec.
Time and opportunity.
Mmm

ture. VOL. II.