FLEANCE, Son to BANQUO, Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers Attendants, and Messengers. SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland, General of the The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Appart English Forces. tions. 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. 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. Doubtfully it stood; Sold. 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 swarm upon him) from the western isles Carv'd out his passage, till he faced the slave; Tumult. * Supplied with light and heavy armed troops. 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 t come, Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark Dismay'd not this Sold. Yes; As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion. 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 honor both :-Go, get him surgeons. [Exit Soldier, attended God save the king, Rosse. 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, Thunder. Enter the 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. And, like a rat without a tail, 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: Weary seven-nights, nine times nine, 2 Witch. Show me, show me. Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear, Your favors, 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! Mach. 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 belier, 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 charze [Witches ruuva you. 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 have 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. You shall be king. Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not si 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: Silenced 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 thy self didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale, Came post with post; and every one did bear [Drum within. 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. 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. 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 Forres?-What are By each at once her choppy fingers 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?-l'the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show! My noble partner You 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; 7 A scurvy woman fed on offals. Avaunt, begone. • Compass. Prophetic sisters. Estate 9 Accursed. 2 Supernatural, spiritual. 4 Abstracted. Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honor, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawcor: 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 Combined with Norway; or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage; or that with both He labor'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 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 Of the imperial theme.-I thank you gentlemenThis supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-If ill, Why hath it given me earnest of succe Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggest in As fast as they could be counted Jacitemen New honors come upon him Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould. But with the aid of use. With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains The hearing of my wife with your approach; On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap, It is a banquet to me. Let us after him, SCENE V.-Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's Enter Lady MACBETH, reading a letter. Lady M. They met me in the day of success; and more in them than mortal knowledge. When I I have learned by the perfectest report, they have Te leaf to read them.-Let us toward the king-made themselves-air, into which they vanished. burned in desire to question them further, they Think upon what hath chanced: and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. Ban. Very gladly. Mach. Till then, enough.-Come, friends. [Exeunt. There's no art, To find the mind's construction in the face: Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS. Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing every thing, Safe toward your love and honor. Welcome hither: There if I grow, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine Mach. The rest is labor, which is not used for you: I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful 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 1 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 wouldst be great; Art not without ambition; but without The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it; All that impedes thee from the golden round, Attend. The king comes here to-night. Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him; Enter MACBETH. 2 Full as valiant as described. • Diadem. Supernatural. Pity. 3 Messengers. Deadly, murderous Wrap as in a mantle Your face, my thane, is a book, where men But be the serpent under it. He that's coming To alter favor ever is to fear: Only look up clear; [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-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 honor'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 yield2 us for your pains And thank us for your trouble. Lady M. All our service In every point twice done, and then done double, Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, Dun. Give me your hand. Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly, And shall continue our grace towards him. By your leave, hostess. [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-A Room in the Castle. tautboys 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 To our own lips. He's here in double trust: Lady M. He has almost supp'd Why have you Know you not, he has Macb. Pr'ythee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know If we should fail,—— We fail' Macs. Lady M. But screw your courage to the sticking place, Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep, Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassel' so convince.* That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason 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? Mach. Bring forth men-children only! For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be received,a When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy twe Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers That they have don't? Lady M. Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar Upon his death? Macb. I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible leat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know [Exen al Winds; sightless is invisible. 6 In the same sense as cohere. 8 Overpower. 1 Muter. 2 Supposed. Intemperan 18. • Sentinel. 3 Thrift ACT II. SCENE I-Court within Macbeth's Castle. Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a Servant with a torch before them. Ban. How goes the night, boys? Fie. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Ban. And she goes down at twelve. I take't, 'tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword:-There's husbandry in heaven, Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. Mach. A friend. Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: He hath been in usual pleasure, and Sent forth great largess to your offices: Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. Enter Lady MACBETH. Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire;- It was the owl that shriek'd the fatal bellman, That death and nature do contend about them, Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho! By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up He could not miss them.-Had he not resembled It measureless content. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind; a false creation, As this which now I draw. Thau marshal'st me the way that I was going; Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all. the rest: I see thee still; Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, My father as he slept, I had done't.--My hus and: Macb. I have done the deed:-Didst thou not Lady M. I heard th owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? Macb. When? Now. As I descended? Who lies i'the second chamber? Macb. This is a sorry sight. Donalbain. [Looking on his hands. Lady M. A foolish thought; to say a sorry sight Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried, murder! That they did wake each other; I stood and heard But they did say their prayers, and address'd them As they had seen me, with these hangman's han is Lady M. amen? I had most need of blessing, and amen Lady M. These deeds must not be thought more! Mach. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep nc 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 I'll go no more Sleave is unwrought silk. |