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, LENOX, 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 Sold. 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 villainies of nature Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles Show'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak: Like valour's minion, Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave; Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels; Dun. Dismay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Sold. Yes; As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks; Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: 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 honour both :-Go, get him surgeons. [Exit Soldier, attended. 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 flout the sky, ab And fan our people cold. Norway himself, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor / The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict: Bontà i Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, A Dun. Great happiness! Rosse. That now “༠ ༤,, Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general use. Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive 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 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. But in a sieve I'll thither sail, 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 will drain him dry as hay: Weary sev'n-nights nine times nine, |