Till he difburfed, at Saint Colmefkil 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 Macbeth hath won.

SCENE III. Changes to the heath..

Thunder. Enter the three Witches..

Witch. Where haft thou been, fifter? 2 Witch. Killing fwine..

3 Witch. Sifter, where thou?

[Exeunt..

1 Witch. A failor's wife had chefnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht. Give me,, quoth I..

Aroint thee, witch!-the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' th' Tyger..
But in a fieve I'll thither fail,.

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. I Witch. Thou art kind..

3 Witch. And I another..

I Witch. I myself have all the other,,

And the very points they blow;
All the quarters that they know,
I' th' fhip-man's card.

I will drain him dry as hay,
Sleep fhall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He fhall live a man forbid;

Weary fev'n-nights, nine times nine,.
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine.
Though his bark cannot be loft,,
Yet it fhall be tempeft-toft.

Look what I have.

* One of the western ifles of Scotland, otherwife called font..

2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me.

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!

[Drum within.

All. The weyward fifters, hand in hand, Pofters 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.

SCENE IV.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers and other Atendants.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

-

Ban. How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire,

That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught

That man may question? You feem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her fkinny lips.- You fhould be women;
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are fo.

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 here.

after.

Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear
Things that do found fo fair? I' th' name of truth,
Are ye fantaftical †, or that indeed [To the witches..
Which outwardly ye fhew? My noble partner
You greet with prefent grace, and great prediction.
Of noble having, and of royal hope,

That he feems rapt withal; to me you speak not.
If you can look into the feeds of time,

fantafiical, for supernatural, spiritual.

And:

And fay, which grain will grow and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear

Your favours nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail!'

I Witch. Leffer than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not fo happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none;: So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

I Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

Macb. Stay, you imperfect fpeakers, tell me more.
By Sinel's death, I know I'm Thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives,
A profp'rous 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 blafted heath you ftop our way,

With fuch 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 feem'd corporal
Melted, as breath, into the wind.-

'Would they had staid!

Ban. Were fuch things here as we do fpeak about? Or have we eaten of the infane root,

That takes the reafon prisoner?

Macb. Your children fhall be Kings.

Ban. You fhall be King..

Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?

Ban. To th' felf-fame tune, and words.

Who's here?

SCENE V... Enter Roffe and Angus.

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccefs; and when he reads
Thy perfonal 'venture † in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine or his.

*The father of Macbeth.
ti. e. adventure.

Silenc'd with that,

In

In viewing o'er the reft o' th' self-same day,
He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thyfelf didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,
Came poft on poft; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence;
And pour'd them down before him.

Aug. We are fent,

To give thee, from our royal mafter, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee..

Roffe. And for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor!:
In which addition, hail, moft worthy Thane!

For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the devil speak true?
Macb. The Thane of Cawdor lives?
Why do you drefs me in his borrow'd robes?
Aug. Who was the Thane, lives yet ;
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deferves to lofe.. 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 treafons capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb. Glamis and Thane of Cawdor!*
The greatest is behind. Thanks for you pains.

[Afide..

[To Angus.

Do you not hope your children fhall be Kings?

[To Banquo..

When thofe that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no lefs to them?

Ban. That, trufted home,.

Might yet inkindle † you unto the crown,
Befides the Thane of Cawdor.

But 'tis ftrange::

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The inftruments of darknefs tell us truths;
Win us with honeft trifles, to betray us

In deepest confequence.

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

[To Roffe and Angus..

Macb..

tinkindle, for to flimulate you to feck.

Macb. Two truths are told,

[Afide.

you,

Gentlemen

As happy prologues to the fwelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank
This fupernatural foliciting *

Cannot be ill; cannot be good.—If ill,
Why hath it giv'n me earneft of fuccefs,
Commencing in a truth? I'm Thane of Cawdor.
If good, why do I yield † to that suggestion,
Whofe horrid image doth upfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? present feats
Are lefs than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,
Shakes fo my fingle state of man, that function
Is fmother'd in furmife ; and nothing is

But what is not .

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt!

Macb. If chance will have me King, why, chance may

crown me,

Without my ftir.

Ban. New honours come upon him,

Afide.

Like our ftrange garments cleave not to their mould,
But with the aid of ufe.

Macb. Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs thro' the roughest day.

[Afide.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leifure. Macb. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought

With things forgot. Kind Gentlemen, your pains
Are regift'red where every day I turn

The leaf to read them-- -Let us tow'rd the King;
Think upon what hath chanc'd; and at more time,

[To Banquo

(The interim having weigh'd it), let us speak Our free hearts each to other.

Ban. Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough: come, friends.

foliciting, for information.

+ yield, not for confent, but for to be fubdued by.

furmife, for contemplation.

[Exeunt. SCENE

i. e. I can give no attention to any thing but to the future pre

fpect of the crown.