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As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks;
So they
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha*,
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 ! Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? Rosse.

From Fife, great king, Where the Norweyan banners floutt 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 f, 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 disburs'd, at Saint Colmes' inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

* Make another Golgotha as memorable as the first. + Mook. #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, And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Rosse. I'll see it done.
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.
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 cardi.
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 :
* Araunt, begone.

+ A scurvy woman fed on offals. Sailor's chart.

§ Accursed.

Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2: Witch. Show me, show me.

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck’d, as homeward he did come.

[Drum within 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. 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 ?-1' the name of truth,

* Prophetick sisters.

Are ye fantastical*, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having t, 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 Caw.dor 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 prophetick greeting ?--Speak, I charge you.

[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,

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 roots, That takes the reason prisoner ?

Macb. Your children shall be kings. * Supernatural, spiritual.

+ Estate. Rapturously affected.

§ The root which makes insane.

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 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 afеard 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 additiont, 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 :

+ Title.

* As fast as they could be counted. VOL. IV.

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