Finger of birth-strangled babe,
Ditch deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chauldron,*
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

All. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.

2 Witch Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.

Enter HECATE, and the other three WrrcHES.
Hec. O, well done! I commend your pains;
An i every one shall share i'the ga ns.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Lelves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

SONG.

Black spirits and white,
Red spirits and grey;
Mingle, mingle, mingle,
You that mingle may.

2 Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes :Open, locks, whoever knocks.

Enter ACBETH.

of thee?

this,

But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear, it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.-What is
Thunder.- An APPARITION of a Child CrowN.
ed, with a tree in his Hand, rises.
That rises like the issue of a king;
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty ?+

All. Listen, but speak not.

App. Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no

care

[are:

midnight hags?

What is't you do?

All. A deed without a name.

Macb. I conjure you, by that which you profess,

(Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me: Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty+ waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg'd,‡ and trees blown down;

Though castle: topple on their warders' heads;

Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope

Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him.

[Descends.

Mach. That will never be;
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodement?
good!

Rebellious head, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal custom.-Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing; Tell me, (if you ?

art

treasure

Of nature's germins tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken, answer me To what I ask you.

1 Witch. Speak.

2 Witch. Demand.

3 Witch. We'll answer.

1 Witch. Say, if thcud'st rather hear it from our mouths,

Or from our master's?

Macb. Call them, let me see them.

1 Witch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath
eaten

Her nine farrow; grease, that's sweaten
From the murderer's bbet, throw
Into the flame.

All. Come, high, or low;
Thyself, and office, deftly T show.
Thunder. An APPARITION of an Armed Head

rises.

All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart.

Eight Kings appear, and pass over the Stage in order; the last with a Glass in his hand; BANQUO following.

Macb.Thou art too like the spirit of Banque: down!

Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls :-And thy hair, [first :Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the A thirds like the former :-Filthy bags! Wy do you show me this?-A fourth-Start, eyes!

What! will the line stretch out to the crack of

That two fold balls and treble scepters carry:
Horrible sight!-Ay, now I see 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd* Banquo smiles upon

me,

And points at them for his.-What, is this so?
1 Witch. Ay, Sir, all this is so :-But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?--
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights,t
And show the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform the antique round:
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Music. The WITHCES dance and vanish. Macb. Where are they? Gone?-Let this pernicious hour

Stand aye accursed in the calender!-
Come in, without there!

Enter LENOX.

Len. What's your grace's will?
Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?
Len. No, my lord.

Macb. Came they not by you!
Len. No indeed, my lord.

?

Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride; And damn'd all those that trust them!-I did hear

The galloping of horse: Who was't came by? 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.

Macb, Time, thou anticipat' t my dread
The flighty purpose neveris o'ertook, [exploits:
Unles the deed go with it: From this moment,
The very fir-tlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought
and done:

The castle of Macduff I will surprise ;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o'the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool:
But no more sights!-Where are these gentle-
men ?

Come, bring me where they are.

[Exeunt.

Rosse. You know not,

Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear

L Macd.isdom to leave his wife, to leave his babes,

His man ion, an his titles, in a place [not;
From whence himself does fly? He loves us
He wants the natural touch:¶ for the poor wren,
The mos diminutive of birds. will fight,*
Her young ones in her nest, against he owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is he love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.

Rosse. My dearest coz,

*Besmeared with blood.

I. e. Spirits. Preventest, by taking away the opportunity. Follow.

.e. Our flight is considered as evidence of our treaNatural affection.

** Fight for.

I pray you, school yourself: But for your hus band,

He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o'the season. I dare not speak much further:

rumour

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; when we hold
[fear;
From what we fear, yet know not what we
But float upon a wild and violent sea,
Each way, and move.-I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb
upward

To what they were before.-My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

Rosse. I am so much a fool, should I stay

longer,

It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once. [Exit Rosse.
L. Macd. Sirrah,* your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother.

L Macd. What, with worms and flies?
Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do
they.

L. Macd Poor bird! thoud'st never fear the net, nor lime, The pit-fall, nor the gin.

Son. Why hould I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.

My father is not dead, for all your saying.
L. Macd. Yes he is dead; how wilt thou do

for a father?

Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. L. Macd. Thou speak'st 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 swears and lies. Son. And be all traitors, that do so?

L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

Son And must they all be hanged, that swear and lie?

L. Macd Every one.

Son. Who must hang them?

L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the hones men, and hang up them.

L acd. Now, God help thee, poor mon key! 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 sign that I should quickly have a new father.

L. Macd. Poor prattler! how thou talk'st. Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,

Though in your state of honour I am perfect.t I doubt, some danger does approach you nearIf you will take a homely man's advice, [ly: Be not found here; hence, with your little

[men, Hold fast the mortal sword; and like good Bestride our downfall'n Birthdom: Each new [sorrows

morn,

New widows howl; new orphans cry; new
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.

Mal. What I believe; I'll wail; What know, believe; and, what I can redress, As I shall find the time to friend,t I will. What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance, This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, [well; Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something [dom You may deserve of him through me; and wisTo offer up a weak poor innocent lamb, To appease an angry god.

Macd. I am not treacherous.
Mal. But Macbeth is.

A good and virtuous nature may recoil. [don;
In an imperial charge. But 'crave your par-
That which you are, my thoughts cannot trans-
[fell:
Angels are bright still, though the brightest
Though all things foul would wear the brows

pose:

of grace, Yet grace must still look so.

Macd. I have lost my hopes. Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts.

Why in that rawness left you wife and child, (Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,)

Without leave taking ?-I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
But mine own safeties:-You may be rightly
just,
Whatever I shall think.

I speak not as in an absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds: I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from racious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: But for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vice than it had before;
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed,

Macd. What should he be ?

All the particulars of vice so grafted,
Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know
[beth
That, when they shall be open'd, black Mac-
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poorstate
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

Mac Not in the legions

Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd In evils to top Macbeth.

Mal. I grant him bloody, Luxurious, aviricious, false, deceitful, Suddent malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name: But there's no bottom none, In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, [up Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill The cistern of my lust; and my desire All continent impediments would o'er-bear, That did oppose my will: Better Macbeth, Than such a one to reign.

Mac. Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-
wink.
[be

We have willing dames enough; there cannot
That vulture in you, to devour so many,
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclia'd.

Mal. With this, there grows,
In my most ill-composed affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house:
And my more having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should
forge

Quarrels unjust against the good, and loyal, Destroying them for wealth.

Macd. This avarice

[root

Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious
Than summer seeding iust: and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: Yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,
Of your mere own: All these are portable,
With other garces weigh'd.

Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming graces,

*Legally settled byt hose who had the ûnal adjudica ↑ Lasicious.

tion.

» Plenty.

+ Passionate. May be endured.

As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound

In the division of each several crime, [should
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

Macd O Scotland! Scotland!

Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken.

Mucd. Fit to govern!

No, not to live.-O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs'd,
And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal
father
[thee,
Was a most sainted king; the queen, that bore
Oftner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself,
Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my
Thy hope ends here!

[breast,

Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd thoughts

my

[beth To thy good truth and honour. Devilish MacBy many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me From over-credulous haste:* But God above Deal between thee and me! for even now I put myself to thy direction, and Unspeak mine own detraction: here abjure The taints and blames I laid upon myself, For strangers to my nature. I am yet Unknown to woman; never was foresworn; Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; At no time broke my faith; would not betray The devil to his fellow; and delight No less in truth, than life: my first false speakWas this upon myself: What I am truly, Is thine, and my poor country's, to command Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, All ready at a point, was setting forth: Now we'll together; And the chance, of good[silent? Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things Tis hard to reconcile. [at once,

ness,

[ing

Enter a DOCTOR. Mal. Well; more anon.-Comes the king forth, I pray you?

Doct. Ay, Sir; there are a crew of wretched souls,

That stay his cure: their malady convincest The great assay of art; but, at his touch, Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, They presently amend.

[Exit DOCTOR.

Mal. I thank you, doctor.
Macd. What is the disease he means?
Mal. "Tis call'd the evil:

A most miraculous work in this good king;
Which often, since my here remain in Eng-

The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
Hanging a golden stamp* about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves [virtue,
The healing benediction. With this strange
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.
Enter RossE.

Macd. See, who comes here?

Mal My countryman; but yet I know him

not.

Macd. My ever gentle cousin, welcome hi

ther.

Mal. I know him now: Good God, betimes The means that make us strangers! [remove Rosse. Sir, Amen.

Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
Rosse. Alas, poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where
nothing,

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend
the air,
[seems
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow
A modern ecstacy;t the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's
Expire before the flowers in their caps, [lives,
Dying, or ere they sicken.

Macd. O, relation,

Too nice, and yet too true!

Mal. What is the newest grief?

Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the Each minute teems a new one. [speaker;

Macd. How does my wife?

Rosse. Why, well.

Macd. And all my children!

Rosse. Well too.

Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their

peace?

Rosse. No; they were all at peace, when I

did leave them.

Rosse. When I came hither to transport the
tidings,

Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a foot;
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

Mal. Be it their comfort,
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men;
An older, and a better soldier, none

That Christendom gives out.

Rosse. 'Would I could answer

This comfort with the like! But I have words, That would be howl'd out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them.

Macd. What concern they?

The general cause? or is it a fee-grief,||
Due to some single breast?

Rosse. No mind, that's honest,

But in it shares some woe; though the main Pertains to you alone.

Macd. If it be mine,

[part

Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

† Common distress of mind. Catch.

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, [sound, Which shall possess them with the heaviest That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Humph! I guess at it.

Rosse. Your castle is surpriz'd: your wife, and babes,

Savagely slaughter'd to relate the manner, Were, on the quarry* of these murder'd deer, To add the death of you.

Mal. Merciful heaven!-[brows; What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your Give sorrow words: the grief, that does not speak, [break. Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it Macd. My children too?

Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all That could be found.

Macd. And I must be from thenee!

My wife kill'd too?

Rosse. I have said.

Mal. Be comforted:

Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones?

Did you say, all?-O, hell-kite!-All?
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
At one fell swoop?

Mal. Dispute it like a man.
Macd. I shall do so;

But I must also feel it as a man:

I cannot but remember such things were, That were not precious to me.-Did heaven look on, [duff, And would not take their part? Sinful MacThey were all struck for thee! naught that I

am,

Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them now!

Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief

[it. Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage Maed. O,I could play the woman with mine eyes, [heaven, And braggart with my tongue-But, gentle Cut short all intermission;t front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape. Heaven forgive him too!

Mal. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer

Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to re ceive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching -In this slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say?

Gent. That, Sir, which I will not report after

her.

Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you should.

Gent. Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to confirm my speech.

Enter Lady MACBETH, with a Taper. Lo you here she comes! This is her very guise i and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.

Doct. How came she by that light? Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; 'tis her command. Doct. You see, her eyes are open.

Gent Ay, but their sense is shut.

Dect. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands; I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out. I say One; Two: Why, t' en 'tis time to do't:Hell is murky !*--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account! -Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; Where is she now?What, will these hands ne'er be clean?-No more o'that my lord, no more o'that you mar all with this starting.

Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M. Here's the smell of the bloodstill: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Doct. What a sight is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body. Doct Well, well, well,

Gent. 'Pray God, it be, Sir,

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice; Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your night-gown; look not so pale:-I tell you yet

of his grave.

Doct. Even so?

at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking To bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady MACBETH. your hand; What's done, cannot be undone; Doct. Will she go now to bed? Gent. Directly.

The game after it is killed.

† All panse.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Upna

* Dark.