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.

Thunder. Enter three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch, Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

[Exeunt.

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.

8 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 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. Show me, show me!

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,

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 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 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 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,

Wreck'd, as homeward he did come. [Drum within. In viewing o'er the rest o'the self-same day,

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 mau 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.

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
Ye 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,
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear

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 judgement 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!
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 nie,
Promis'd no less to them?

Ban. That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you into 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,
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!

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. - Noble Banquo,
Thou 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 fulness, 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, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The prince of Cumberland: which honour 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 labour, which is not us'd for you:

Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance may I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful

crown me,

Without my stir.

Ban. New honours come upon him

The hearing of my wife with your approach.

So, humbly take my leave.

Dun. My worthy Cawdor!

Like our strange garments; cleave not to their mould, Macb. The prince of Cumberland! - That is a step,

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 thec. '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.
Macb. The service and the loyalty, I owe,
In doing it, pays itfelf. 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 honour.

Dun. Welcome hither!

On which I must fall down, or else o'erlcap; [Aside.
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
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!
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,
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

[Exit.

Exeunt.

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 I
have learned by the perfectest report, they have more
in them, than mortal knowledge. When I burned in
desire to question them further, they made themsel-
ves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood
rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king,
who all-hailed me Thaue 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 I 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 would'st be great;
Art not without ambition; but without

The illness, should attend it. What thou would'st
highly,

That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false,
And yet would'st 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 valour 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.

Atten. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M. Thou'rt mad to say it.

Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,

He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,
[Exit Attendant.
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,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

That eroaks the fatal entrance of Duncan

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, Hold, hold! Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

Enter MACBETH.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond

This ignorant present, and I feel now

The future in the instant.

Macb. My dearest love,

Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady M. And when goes hence?

Macb. To-morrow,- - as he purposes.

Lady M. O, never

Shall sun that morrow see!

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters.

To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue! look like the innocent
'flower,

But be the serpent under it! He that's coming,
Must be provided for: and
shall put
you
This night's great business into my despatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M. Only look up clear!
To alter favour ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me!

Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house. For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We rest your hermits.

Dun. Where's the thane of Cawdor?
We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose,
To be his purveyor; but he rides well,

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.

Lady M. Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.

Dun. Give me your hand!
Conduct me to mine host! we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess!

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. - The same. A room in the castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service. Then enter MACBETH.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere
well

It were done quickly. If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success, that but this blow
Might be the be- all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, -
We'd jump the life to come. - But, in these cases
We still have judgement here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead, like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off,
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,

[Exeunt. Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

SCENE VI. — The same. Before the castle.
Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending.
Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LE-
NOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants.
Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

Ban. This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, buttress,
Nor coigne of vantage, but this bird hath made
His pendent bed, and procreant cradle. Where they
Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, the air
Is delicate.

That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other. - How now, what news?
Enter Lady MACBETH.

Lady M. He has almost supp'd. Why have you left
the chamber?

Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady M. Know you not, he has?

Macb. We will proceed no further in this business.
He hath honour'd me of late, and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

Lady M. Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afcard
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that,
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem?
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,

Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Hear it not, Duncan! for it is a knell, Ban. And she goes down at twelve.

murder!

That they did wake each other;I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
Again to sleep.

Lady M. There are two lodg'd together.
Macb. One cried, God bless us! and, Amen, the other;
As they had seen me with these hangman's hands,
Listening their fear, I could not say, amen,
When they did say, God bless us.

Lady M. Consider it not so deeply!

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce amen?
I had most need of blessing, and amen
Stuck in my throat.

Lady M. These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast;
Lady M. What do you mean?
Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady M. Who was it, that thus cried? Why, worthy

thane,

You do unbend your noble strength, to think

So brainsickly of things.-Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand! -
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood!

Macb. I'll go no more:

I am afraid to think, what I have done.
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady M. Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers! The sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal;
For it must seem their guilt. [Exit. Knocking within.
Macb. Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,.

Making the green one red.

279

Hath left you unattended. - [Knocking.] Hark! more
knocking:

Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us,
And show us to be watchers! - Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts!

Macb. To know my deed,-'twere best not know
[Knock.
myself.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Ay, 'would thou
could'st!
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same.

Enter a Porter. [Knocking within. Porter. Here's a knocking, indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i'the name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of plenty. Come in time; have napkins enough about you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking.] Knock, knock! Who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator! [Knocking.] knock, knock, knock! Who's there? 'Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose. Come in, tailor! here you may roast your goose. [Knocking.] Knock, knock! Never at quiet! What are you? place is too cold for hell. I'll devilporter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the [Opens the gate. porter! Enter MACDUFF and LENOX.

But this

Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?

Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock:and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things. Masd. What three things does drink especially provoke?

Port. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes: it provokes the desire, butit takes away the performance: therefore much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to: in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

Macd. I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night. Port. That it did, sir, i'the very throat o' me. But I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him.

Macd. Is thy master stirring?
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Enter MACBeth.

Len. Good morrow, noble sir!
Macb. Good morrow, both!
Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane?'
Mucb. Not yet.

Macd. He did command me to call timely on him;
I have almost slipp'd the hour.

Mucb. I'll bring you to him.

Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you ;
But yet 'tis one.

Macb. The labour, we delight in, physicks pain.
This is the door.

Macd. I'll make so bold to call;
For 'tis my limited service.

Len. Goes the king
From hence to-day?

[Exit Macduff.

Macb. He does:— he didappoint it so.