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SCENE, in the end of the Fourth Act, lies in England; through the rest of the Play, in Scotland, and, chiefly, at Macbeth's Castle.

SCENE 1. AN OPEN PLACE.

ACT I.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches. 1 Witch. WHEN shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2 Witch. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won.

3 Witch. That will be ere set of sun. 1 Witch. Where the place?

2 Witch. Upon the heath.

3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

1 Witch. I come, Graymalkin!

All. Paddock calls:-anon

Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air, [Witches vanish.

SCENE II. A CAMP NEAR FORES.

Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenor, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.

Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.

Mal. This is the sergeant,

Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Soll. Doubtfully it stood;

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
(Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that,
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion,

Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;

And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, 'Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come, Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, [heels, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of meu Began a fresh assault.

Dun. Dismay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Sold. Yes;

As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I say sooth, must report they were
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. [wounds; Dun. So well thy words become thee, as thy 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 haste looks through his eyes! So That seems to speak things strange. [should he look Rosse. God save the king!

Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane
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 d'sloyal traitor,
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
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1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her Aud 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.

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,

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
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, [these,
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
By each at once her choppy finger laying
[me,

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 ! [of Cawdor!

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. [fear

Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to Things that do sound so fair?—I'the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed [to Witches. 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, [not,
And say, which grain will grow, and which will
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favours nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail! 8 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 So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! [none:

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! [more!
Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me
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 [you.
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge
[Witches vanish.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.-Whither are they vanish'd? [melted

Mach. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, As breath into the wind.-Would they had staid! Ban. Were such things here as we do speak Or have we eaten of the insane root, [about? 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, 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,

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th,

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 In borrow'd robes? [dress me

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 painsDo you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd 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

If ill,

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.-
This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good.
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
Without my stir.
[may crown me,
Ban. New honours come upon him
Like our strange garments; cleave not to their
But with the aid of use.
[mould,

sure.

Macb. Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your lei[was wrought Macb. Give me your favour:-my dull brain With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your Are register'd where every day I turn [pains The leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king.— Think upon what hath chanc'd: and, at more time, (The interim having weigh'd it,) let us speak Our free hearts each to other.

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Dun. There's no art,

To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman, on whom I built
An absolute trust.-O worthiest cousin!

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before, ju
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. '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 itself. 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 Safe toward your love and honour. gal[thing

Dun. Welcome hither:

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That 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.
[you:

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.

[step,

Dun. My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. The prince of Cumberland! That is a
On which I must fall

For in my way it lies, or else o'erleap, [aside.
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. [exit.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so
Macb. Till then, enough.-Come friends. And in his commendations I am fed ; [valiant;

Ban. Very gladly.

[exeunt.

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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; 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 themselves-air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all hailed me, Thane 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 [highly,
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st
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
And that which rather thou dost fear to do, [it;
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.

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

Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is One of my fellows had the speed of him; [coming: Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message.

Lady M. Give him tending,
He brings great news. The raven himself is
hoarse,
[exit Attendant.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
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 pace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring minis-
Wherever in your sightless substances [ters,
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 you shall put
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.

SCENE VI. THE SAME.

[exeunt.

BEFORE THE CASTLE.

Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, 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.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Dun. See, see! our honour'd hostess! The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, How you shall bid God yield us for your pains. And thank us for your trouble.

Lady M. All our service

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
For those of old,
Your majesty loads our house.
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 help him
Fair and noble hostess,
To his home before us.
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.

[ereunt.

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
It were done quickly. If the assassination [well,
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,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

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Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know
How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you
Have done to this.

Macb. If we should fail,-
Lady M. We fail!

But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassel so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,

That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other.-How now, what news?
Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady M. He has almost supp'd. Why have you
Macb. Hath he ask'd for me? [left the chamber?
Lady M. Know you not, he has? [ness.
Macb. We will proceed no further in this busi-
He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,

A limbeck only. When in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie, as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?

Macb. Bring forth men-chilaren only'
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be received,

When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two

Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
Not cast aside so soon.

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That they have done't?

Lady M. Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?

Macb. I am settled, and bend up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

A way, and mock the time with fairest show;
False face must hide what the false heart doth
know.

[exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. THE SAME. COURT WITHIN THE CASTLE.

Enter Banquo and Fleance, and a Servant with a torch before them.

Ban. How goes the night, boy?

[clock.
Fle. The moon is down! I have not heard the
Ban. And she goes down at twelve.
Fle. I take't, 'tis later, sir.
[in heaven,
Ban. Hold, take my sword.-There's husbandry
Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers!
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose !-Give me my sword ;-

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