THE

TRAGEDY

OF

MACBETH.

DUNCAN, King of Scotland.

MALCOLM,

DONALBAIN, S Sons to tb King.

MACBETH, Generals of the King's Army.

BANQUO,

CATHNESS,

FLEANCE, Son to Banquo.

SIWARD, General of the English Forces.
Young SIWARD bis Son.

SEYTON, an Officer attending on Macbeth.
Son to Macduff.

Dottor.

Lady MACBETH.

Lady MACDUFF.

Gentlewomen attending on Lady Macbeth.
HECATE, and three other Witches.

Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers and Attendants.

The Ghoft of Banquo, and feveral other Apparitions

SCENE in the end of the fourth act lyes in England, through the reft of the Play in Scotland, and chiefly at Macbeth's Cafile.

Suppos'd to be true biftory; taken from Hector Boetius, and ether Scotifh Chroniclers.

MAC

MACBETH.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

An open Heath.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.

1 Witch.

W

HEN fhall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, and in rain?
2 Witch. When the hurly-burly's

When the battel's loft and won.

3 Witch. That will be ere fet of fun. I Witch. Where the place?

2 Witch. Upon the heath.

3 Witch. There I go to meet Macbeth. I Witch. I come, I come, Grimalkin

2 Witch. Padocke calls-anon! All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair, Hover through fog and filthy air.

[done,

[They rife from the ftage, and fly away,

SCENE II. The Palace at Foris.

Enter King Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Captain.

King. What bloody man is that? he can report, As feemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.

Mal. This is the ferjeant, who

Like a right good and hardy foldier fought

'Gainft my captivity. Hail, hail, brave friend!
Say to the King the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Cap. Doubtful long it ftood;

As two spent fwimmers that do cling together,

And

And choak their art: the mercilefs Macdonel
(Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villanies of nature

Do fwarm upon him) from the western ifles
With Kerns and Gallow-glaffes was fupply'd,
And fortune on his damned quarrel fmiling,
Shew'd like the rebel's whore. But all too weak
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name)
Difdaining fortune, with his brandifht fteel
Which fmoak'd with bloody execution,
Like Valour's minion carved out his paffage,
'Till he had fac'd the flave,

Who ne'er thook hands nor bid farewel to him,
'Till he unfeam'd him from the nape to th' chops,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

King. Oh valiant coufin! worthy gentleman!
Cap. As whence the fun gives his reflection,*
Shipwrecking ftorms and direful thunders break;
So from that fpring whence comfort feem'd to come,
Difcomfort fwell'd. Mark, King of Scotland, mark;
No fooner Juftice had, with valour arm'd,
Compell'd these skipping Kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norrveyan Lord furveying vantage,
With furbisht arms and new fupplies of men
Began a fresh affault.

King. Difmay'd not this

Our captains, brave Macbeth and Banquo ?
Cap. Yes,

As fparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I fay footh, I muft report they were

As cannons over-charg'd; with double cracks,
So they redoubled ftrokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell

But I am faint, my gafhes cry for help

King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds: They Imack of honour both. Go, get him furgeons.

By this is meant the Rainbow the ftrongest and most remarkable reflection of any the fun gives.

Enter

Enter Roffe and Angus.

But who comes here?

Mal. The worthy Thane of Roffe.

[look,

Len. What hafte looks through his eyes? fo fhould he

That feems to fpeak things frange!

Roffe. God fave the King!

King. Whence cam'ft thou, worthy Thane ?

Roffe. From Fife, great King,

Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.

Norway, himself with numbers terrible,
Affifted by that most difloyal traitor

The Thane of Cawdor, 'gan a difmal conflict;
'Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with felf-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish fpirit. To conclude,
The victory fell on us.

King. Great happiness!

Roffe. Now Sweno, Norway's King, craves compofition: Nor would we deign him burial of his men,

'Till he difburfed, at Saint Colmkil-ifle,

Ten thousand dollars, to our gen'ral use.

-King. No more that Thane of Cawdor fhall deceive

Our bofom int'reft. Go, pronounce his death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Roffe. I'll fee it done.

King. What he hath loft, noble Macheth hath won. [Exe. SCENE III. The Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Where haft thou been, fifter?

2 Witch. Killing fwine.

3 Witch. Sifter, where thou?

Witch. A failor's wife had cheftnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht. Give me, Aroint thee, witch, the rump-fed ronyon cries. [quoth I, Her husband's to Aleppo gone, mafter o'th' Tiger: But in a fieve I'll thither fail,

And like a rat without a tail,

• Colmkil is one of the western lles of Scotland, otherwife call'd

I'N