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I cannot tell

But I am faint, my Gafhes cry for help

King. So well thy Words become thee, as thy Wounds, They fmack of Honour both: Go, get him Surgeons. Enter Roffe and Angus.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy Thane of Roffe.

Len. What hafte looks through his Eyes?

So fhould he look, that feems to fpeak things ftrange.
Roffe. God fave the King.

King. Whence cam'ft thou, worthy Thane? ·
Roffe. From Fife, great King,

Where the Norweyan Banners flout the Sky,
And fan our People Cold.

Norway himself, with terrible Numbers,
Affifted by that most difloyal Traitor,
The Thane of Cawdor, began a difmal Conflict,
'Till that Bellona's Bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with Self-comparisons,

Point against Point, rebellious Arm 'gainst Arm,
Curbing his lavish Spirit: And to conclude,
The Victory fell on us.

King. Great Happiness,

Roffe. That now Swene, the Norway's King, Craves Compofition:

Nor would we deign him burial of his Men, 'Till he disburfed, at St. Colmes-hill,

Ten thoufand Dollars, to our general use.

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor fhall deceive

Our bofom Intereft. Go, pronounce his prefent 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. The Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

I Witch. Where haft thou been, Sifter?

2 Witch. Killing Swine.

[Exeunt.

Q 4

3 Witch.

3 Witch. Sifter, where thou?

1 Witch. A Sailor's Wife had Cheftnuts 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, Mafter o'th' Tiger:
But in a Sieve I'll thither fail,

And like a Rat without a Tail,
I'll do I'll do

2 Witch. I'll give thee a Wind,
I Witch. Th'art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

and I'll do.

1 Witch. I my felf have all the other,
And the very Ports they blow,
All the Quarters that they know,
I'th' Ship-man's Card.

I'll drain him dry as Hay;
Sleep fhall neither Night nor Day,
Hang upon his Pent-houfe Lid;
He hall live a Man forbid ;
Weary Sev'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.

2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me.

I Witch. Here, I have a Pilot's Thumb,

Wrackt as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A Drum, a Drum.

Macbeth doth come.

All. The weyward Sifters, 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.

[Drum within.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers and other Attendants. Macb. So foul and fair a Day I have not feen.

Ban. How far is't call'd to Soris? What are thefe ?

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So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire,

That look not like th' Inhabitants o'th' Earth,

And

And yet are on't? Live you, or are you ought
That Man may question? You feem to undefftand me,
By each at once her choppy Finger laying

Upon her skinny Lips.

You fhould be Women,

And yet your Beards forbid me to interpret
That you are fo.

Macb. Speak if you can; what are you?

I 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 fhalt be King hereafter. Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear Things that do found fo fair? i'th' name of Truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

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[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 wrapt withal; to me you speak not.
If you can look into the Seeds of Time,

And fay, which Grain will grow, and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your Favours, nor your Hate.

I Witch. Hail!

2 Witch, Hail!

3

Witch. Hail!

í 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 imperfe& 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 profperous Gentleman; and to be King,
Stands not within the profpect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
You owe this ftrange Intelligence? or why,
Upon this blasted Heath you ftop our way,
With fuch Prophetick Greeting?-----

Speak, I charge you.

[Witches vanifb.

Ban. The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water ha ; And these are of them: Whither are they vanish'd?

Mach.

Macb. Into the Air: and what feem'd corporal, Melted, as breath into the Wind.

Would they had ftaid.

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.

Mack. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?
Ban. To th' felf-fame tune, and words; who's here?
Enter Roffe and Angus.

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The News of thy Succefs; and when he reads
Thy perfonal Venture in the Rebels Fight,
His Wonders and his Praifes do contend,
Which fhould be thine or his; Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the reft o' th' felf-fame day,
He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan Ranks,
Nothing afraid, of what thy felf didft make,
Strange Images of Death; as thick as Hail
Came Poft with Poft, and every one did bear
Thy Praifes in his Kingdom's great Defence,
And pour'd them down before him.

Ang. We are fent,

To give thee, from our Royal Mafter, Thanks,
Only to Herald thee inte his fight,

Not pay thee.

Reffe. And for an earnest of a greater Honour,
He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
In which Addition, hail, most worthy Thane!
For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the Devil speak true?
Mach. The Thane of Cawdor lives;
Why do you drefs me in this borrowed Robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet,

But under heavy Judgment bears that Life,
Which he deferves to lofe.

Whether he was combin'd with thofe of Norway,
Or elfe did line the Rebel with hidden help,
And vantage or that with both he labour'd
In his Country's wrack, I know not:

But

But Treafors Capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,

Have overthrown him.

Macb. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!

[Afide

The greateft is behind. Thanks for your pains. [To Angus.

Do you not hope your Children fhall be Kings? [To Banquo. When those that gave the Thane of Cawder to me, Promis'd no lefs to them?

Ban. That trusted home,

Might yet enkindle you into 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 honest Trifles, to betray's

In deepest Consequence,

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

Mach. Two Truths are told,

[To Roffe and Angus.

[Afide.

As happy Prologues to the fwelling A&

Of the imperial Theam. I thank you, Gentlemen

This fupernatural folliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good

Why hath it given me earnest of fuccefs,

If ill?

Commencing in a Truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.
If good? Why do I yield to that Suggeftion,
Whofe horrid Image doth unfix my Hair,
And make my feated Heart knock at my Ribs,
Against the use of Nature? Present fears

Are less than horrible imaginings:

My thought, whofe 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 rougheft Day.

Ban.

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