As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks; Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, I cannot tell: But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. Dun. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds; They smack of honour both:-Go, get him surgeons. [Exit Soldier, attended. Enter Rosse. 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! From Fife, great king, Where the Norweyan banners flout+ the sky, Norway himself, with terrible numbers, The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict: Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, Dun. Rosse. That now Great happiness! Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men, + Mook. * Make another Golgotha as memorable as the first. Shakspeare means Mars. § Defended by armour of proof. Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall de ceive Our bosom interest :-Go, pronounce his death, Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Heath. 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. And, like a rat without a tail, 2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind. 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 will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall, neither night nor day, * Avaunt, begone. Sailor's chart. A scurvy woman fed on offals. § Accursed. Though his bark cannot be lost, 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. [Drum within. All. The weird sisters*, hand in hand, Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, Enter Macbeth and Banquo. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth, me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips :-You should be women, 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, *Prophetick sisters. 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; 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 you. 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 §, Macb. Your children shall be kings. * Supernatural, spiritual. Rapturously affected. + Estate. § The root which makes insane. You shall be king. Ban. 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; 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†, 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: * As fast as they could be counted. VOL. IV. + Title. |