« PreviousContinue »
I cannot tell
But I am faint, my Goshes cry for help
King. So well thy Words become thee, as thy Wounds, They Imack of Honour both : Go, get him Surgeons.
Enter Rofle and Angus. Who comes here?
Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse.
Len. What haste looks through his Eyes?
So should he look, that seems to speak things strange.
Roffe. God save the King.
King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
Rolle. From Fife, great King,
Where the Norweyan Banners flout the Sky,
And fan our People Cold.
Norway himself, with terrible Numbers,
Alifted by that most disloyal Traitor,
The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal Corfia,
'Till that Bellona's Bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with Self-comparisons,
Point againk Point, rebellious Arm 'gainst Aim,
Curbing his lavish Spirit: And to conclude,
The Vi&ory fell on us.
King. Great Happiness,
Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norway's King,
Nor would we deign him burial of his Mer,
'Till he disbursed, at St. Colmes-bill,
Ten thousand Dollars, to our general use.
King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom Interest. Go, pronounce hi; present Death, And with his former Title, greet Macbeth.
Rosse. I'll see it done.
King. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
[Exeunt. SCENE III. The Heath.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches, 1 Witch. Where halt thou been, Sister? ? Witch. Killing Swine.
3 Witch. S fter, where thou?
í Wich. A Sailor's Wife had Chestnuts 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' Tiger :
But in a Sieve I'll thither fail,
And like a Rat without a Tail,
- I'll do
and I'll do.
2 Witch. I'll give thee a Wind,
1 Witch. Th'art kind.
3 Witch. And I another.
i Witch. I my self have all the other,
And the very Ports they blow,
All the Quarrers that they know,
I'th' Ship-man's Card.
I'll drain him dry as Hay;
Sleep înall oeither Night nor Day,
Hang upon his Pent-house Lid ;
He ih all live a Man forbid;
Weary Sev’nights, nine times pine,
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his Bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempeft-roit.
Look what I have.
2 Witch. Shew me, shew me.
"I Witch. Here, I have a Pilot's Thumb,
Wrackt as homeward he did come.
[Dram witbin. 3 Witch. A Drum, a Drum. Macbeth doth come. All
. The weyward Sisters, 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, che Charm's wound
up. Enter Macbith and Banquo, with Soldiers and other Attendants.
Macb. So foul and fair a Day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Soris? --- What are these ? So wither'd, and fi) wild in their atrire, That look not like th' Inhabitants o'ch' Earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you ought
That Man may question? You seem to undefitand me,
By each at once her choppy Finger laying
Upon her skinny Lips.
You should 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, Macbetb! that shalt be King hereafter. Ban. Good Sir, why do you start, and seem to fear Things that do sound lo fair ? i'th' name of Truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
[To the Witches.
Which outwardly ye shew? my noble Partner,
You greet with present Grace, and great Predigion
Of noble having, and of Royal hope,
That he seems wrapt withal; to me you speak not.
If you can look into the Seeds of Time,
And say, 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. Hai!!
1 Witch. Lefser than Macbeth, and greater.
2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.
3 Witch. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none; So all hail! Macbeth and Banguo.
1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
Macb. Stay, you imperfed Speakers, tell me more;
By Sinel's Death I know I am Thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? The Thare of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous Gentleman; and to be King,
Stands not within the profpe&t of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
You owe this strange Intelligence ? or why,
Upon this blasted Heath you stop our way,
With such Prophetick Greeting?
Spcak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish. Ban. The Earth hach bubbles, as the Water ha ; And these are of them: Whicher are they vanilh'd?
Macb. Into the Air : and what seem'd corporal,
Melted, as breath into the Wind.
Would they had staid.
Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak about
Or have we eaten of the infape Root,
That takes the Reason Prisoner?
Macb. Your Children shall be Kings.
Ban. You shall be King.
Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?
Ban. To th' self-fame tune, and words; who's here?
Enter Roffe and Angus.
Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The News of thy Success; and when he reads
Thy personal Venture in the Rebels Fight,
His Wonders and his Praises do contend,
Which should be thine or his; Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o'th' self-fame day
He finds thee in the stɔut Norweyan Ranks,
Nothing afraid, of what thy self
Strange Images of Death; as thick as Hail
Came Post with Post, and every one did bear
Thy Praises in his Kingdom's great Defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Ang. We are sent,
To give thee, from our Royal Mafter, Thanks,
Only to Herald thee inte his fight,
Nor pay thee.
Rolle. 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?
Macb. The Tbane of Cawdor lives;
Why do you dress me in this borrowed Robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet,
Bue under heavy Judgment bears that Life,
Which he deferves to lose.
Whether he was combin'd with those of Norway,
Or elfe did find the Rebel with hidden help,
And vantages or that with both he labour'd
La his Country's Wrack, I know not:
But Treasors Capital, confess’d, and provid,
Have overthrown him.
Macb, Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains. [To Angus.
Do you not hope your Children shall be Kings? [To Banquo.
When those that gave the Thane of Cawder to me,
Promis'd no less to them?
Ban. That trusted home, Might yet
into the Crown, Belides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The Instruments of darkness tell us Truths, Win us with honest Trifles, to betray's In deepest Consequence, Cousins, a word, I pray you. [To Rosse and Angus. Macb. Two Truths are told,
[Aide. As happy Prologues to the swelling A& of the imperial Theam. I thank you, GentlemenThis supernatural folliciting Cannot be ill ; cannot be good
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a Truth ? I am Thane of Cawdor.
If good? Why do I yield to that Suggestion,
Whofe horrid Image doth unfix my Hair,
And make my seated Heart knock at my Ribs,
Against the use of Nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings :
My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my fingle State of Man,
That Function is fmother'd in surmise,
And nothing is, but what is not.
Ban. Look how our Partner's rapt.
Macb. If Chance will have me King, why Chance may
[Afide. Without my ftir.
Ban. New Honours come upon him,
Like our strange Garmert, cleave not to their mould,
But with the aid of use.
Macb. Come what come may,
Time and the Hour runs thro' the roughest Day.