1 Witch. He will not be commanded. Here's another

More potent than the first.

Apparition of a bloody child rifes.

App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

[Thunder.

App. Be bloody, bold, and refolute; laugh to fcorn The pow'r of man; for none of woman born

Shall harm Macbeth.

[Defcends. Macb. Then live, Macduff; what need I fear of thee? But yet I'll make affurance double fure,

And take a bond of Fate; thou shalt not live,

That I may tell pale-hearted Fear it lyes,

And fleep in fpight of thunder.

[Thunder.

Apparition of a child crowned, with a tree in his hand, rifes.

What is this

That rifes like the iffue of a King,

And wears upon his baby-brow the round

And top of fovereignty?

All. Liften, but speak not.

App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care, Who chafes, who frets, or where confpirers are: Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until

Great Birnan-wood to Dunfinane's high hill

Shall come against him.

Macb. That will never be:

Who can imprefs the foreft, bid the tree

[Defcends.

Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet boadments! good!
Rebellious head rife never, till the wood

Of Birnan rife, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the leafe of Nature, pay his breath
To Time and mortal cuftom!. -Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing; tell me, (if your art
Can tell fo much), fhall Banquo's iffue ever
Reign in this kingdom?

All. Seek to know no more.

[The cauldron finks into the ground.

Macb. I will be fatisfy'd. Deny me this,

And an eternal curfe fall on you! Let me know

Why finks that cauldron ? and what noise is this?

[Hautboys.

1 Witch. Shew!

2 Witch. Shew!

3 Witch. Shew!

All. Shew his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like fhadows, so depart.

[Eight Kings appear and pass over in order, the laft holding a glafs in his hand: with Banquo following them Mach. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down! Thy crown doth fear mine eye-balls.- And thy air (Thou other gold-bound brow) is like the firft

A third is like the former- -filthy hags!

Why do you fhew me this?-A fourth-Start, eye!
What! Will the line ftretch out to th' crack of doom?—
Another yet?
-A feventh! I'll fee no more——

And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glafs,
Which fhews me many more; and some I see,
That twofold balls and treble fceptres carry.
Horrible fight! nay, now I fee 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo fmiles upon me,
And points at them for his. What, is this fo?

1 Witch. Ay, Sir, all this is fo. But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
Come, fifters, chear we up his fprights,
And fhew the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a found,
While you perform your antic round;
That this great King may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.

Mufic.

[The witches dance and vanish. Mach. Where are they? gone?Let this perniciStand aye accurfed in the Kalendar!

Come in, without there!

Enter Lenox.

Len. What's your Grace's will?

Macb. Saw you the weyward fifters ?

Len. No, my Lord.

Macb. Came they not by you?

Len. No indeed, my Lord.

[ous hour

Mach. Infected by the air whereon they ride,

And damn'd all thofe that truft them! I did hear
The galloping of horse. Who was't came by?

Len.

Len. 'Tis two or three, my Lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England.

Macb. Fled to England?

Len. Ay, my good Lord.

*

Mach. Time, thou anticipat'ft my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook †,

Unless the deed go with it. From this moment,
The very firftlings of my heart fhall be

The firstlings of my hand.

And even now

To crown my thoughts with acts, be't thought and done! The caftle of Macduff I will furprise,

Seize upon Fife, give to the edge o' th' fword

His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate fouls

That trace him in his line. No boafting like a fool,
This deed I'll do before the purpose cool.

But no more fights. Where are these gentlemen?
Come bring me where they are.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Changes to Macduff's caftle in Fife.

Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Roffe.

L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the
Roffe. You must have patience, Madam. [land!
L. Macd. He had none;

His flight was madneis; when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.

Roffe. You know not,

Whether it was his wifdom, or his fear.

L. Macd. Wisdom? to leave his wife, to leave his His manfion, and his titles, in a place [babes, From whence himself does fly? He loves us not, He wants the natʼral touch; for the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. All is the fear, and nothing is the love; As little is the wifdom, where the flight So runs against all reason.

Roffe. My dearest coufin,

*i. e. defeateft.

I

to'ertock is here used for coming to effect. The expreffion is bad, but the fenfe good; which is, that purposes delayed are generally defeated.

I pray you school yourfelf; but for your husband,
He's noble, wife, judicious, and best knows

The fits o' th' feafon. I dare not speak much further;
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,

And do not know ourselves: when we hold rumour t
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear;
But float upon a wild and violent sea

Each way, and move. I take my leave of you;
"Tfhall not be long but I'll be here again :

Things at the worst will ceafe, or else climb upward
To what they were before. My pretty coufin,
Bleffing upon you!

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
Roffe. I am fo much a fool, fhould I ftay longer,
It would be my difgrace and your discomfort.
I take my leave at once.

L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead,

[Exit Roffe.

And what will you do now? how will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother.

L. Macd. What, on worms and flies?

Son. On what I get, I mean; and fo do they.

L. Macd. Poor Eird! thou'dft never fear the net, nor The pit-fall, nor the gin.

[lime,

Son. Why fhould I, mother? poor birds, they are not

fet for.

My father is not dead for all your faying.

L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband?

L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. Son Then you'll buy 'em to fell again.

L. Macd. Thou fpeak'ft with all thy wit, and yet faith,

With wit enough for thee.

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?

L. Macd. Ay, that he was.

Son. What is a traitor?

L. Macd. Why, one that fwears and lyes.

Son. And be all traitors that do fo?

L. Macd. Every one that does fo, is a traitor, and must be hang'd.

Son.

To hold rumour, fignifies to be govern'd by the authority of rumour

Son. And muft they all be hang'd, that fwear and lye? L. Macd. Every one.

Son. Who muft hang them!

L. Macd. Why, the honeft men.

Son. Then the lyars and fwearers are fools; for there are lyars and fwearers enow to beat the honeft men, and hang up them.

L. Macd. God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?

Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you would not, it were a good fign that I fhould quickly have a new father.

L. Macd. Poor pratler! how thou talk'ft?

Enter a Meffenger.

Me. Blefs you, fair dame! I am not to you known, Though in your ftate of honour I am perfect; I doubt fome danger does approach you nearly. you will take a home'y man's advice,

If

Be not found here; hence with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks I am too favage;
To do worship * to you, were fell cruelty,

Which is too nigh your perfon. Heav'n preferve you
I dare abide no longer.

L. Macd. Whither fhould I fly?

I've done no harm.

!

[Exit Meffenger.

But I remember now,

I'm in this earthly world, where to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good, fometime
Accounted dang'rous folly. Why then, alas !
Do I put up that womanly defence,

To fay, I'd done no harm?

What are thefe faces?

Enter Murtherers.

Mur. Where is your husband?

L. Macd. I hope, in no place fo unfanctified,

Where fuch as thou may't find him.

Mur. He's a traitor.

Son. Thou ly't, thou fhag-ear'd villain.

Mur. What, you egg?

Young fry of treachery?

A a

[Stallin him.

Son

*To do worship, fignified, in the phrafe of that time, to pay

fervance.