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That were the flaves of drink, and thralls of fleep?
Was not that nobly done? ay, wifely too;
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
To hear the men deny't. So that, I fay,
He has borne all things well; and I do think,
That had he Duncan's fons under his key,

(As, an't please heav'n, he shall not;) they should find
What t'were to kill a father: fo fhould Fleance.
But peace! for from broad words, and 'caufe he fail'd
His prefence at the tyrant's feaft, I hear,

Macduff lives in difgrace. Sir, can you tell
Where he beftows himself?

Lord. The Son of Duncan,

From whom this tyrant holds the due of Birth,
Lives in the English Court; and is receiv'd
Of the most pious Edward with fuch grace,
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high refpect. Thither Macduff
Is gone to pray the King upon his aid

To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward;
That by the help of these, (with Him above
To ratify the work.) we may again

Give to our tables meat, fleep to our nights;
Free from our feafts and banquets bloody knives;
Do faithful homage, and receive free honours,
All which we pine for now.
And this report

Hath fo exafp'rated their King, that he

Prepares for fome attempt of War.

Len. Sent he to Macduff?

Lord. He did, and with an abfolute, Sir, not I,

The cloudy meffenger turns me his back,

And hums; as who fhould fay, you'll rue the time,

That clogs me with this answer.

Len. And that well might

Advife him to a care to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy Angel
Fly to the Court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come; that a swift Bleffing

May foon return to this our fuffering Country,
Under a hand accurs'd!

Lord. I'll fend my pray'rs with him.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

[Exeunt:

A dark Cave; in the middle, a great Cauldron burning.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

I WITCH.

HRICE the brinded cat hath mew'd.

TH

2 Witch. Twice, and once the hedge-pig whin'd. 3 Witch. Harper cries, 'tis time, 'tis time.

I Witch. Round about the cauldron go,

In the poison'd entrails throw.

[They march round the cauldron, and throw in the
feveral ingredients as for the preparation of their
Charm.

Toad, that under the cold ftone,
Days and nights has, thirty one,
Swelter'd venom fleeping got;
Boil thou firft i'th' charmed pot.
All. Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
1 Witch. Fillet of a fenny fnake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog;
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog;
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's fling,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing:
For a Charm of pow'rful trouble,
Like a hell-broth, boil and bubble.

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

3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,. Witches' mummy; maw, and gulf

Of

Of the ravening falt fea-shark;
Root of hemloc, digg'd i'th' dark;
Liver of blafpheming Jew:
Gall of goat, and flips of yew,-
Silver'd in the moon's eclipfe;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips ;
Finger of birth-ftrangled babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab;
Make the gruel thick, and flab.
Add thereto a tyger's chawdron,
For th' 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 other three Witches.
Hec. Oh! well done! I commend your pains,
And every one shall share i'th' gains.

And now about the cauldron fing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Inchanting all that you put in.

Mufic and a Song.

Black fpirits and white,
Blue fpirits 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.

SCENE II.

Macb. Hor

Enter Macbeth.

}

OW now, you fecret, black, and midnight hags?

What is't you do?

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All. A deed without a name.

Macb. I conjure you, by that which you profefs, (Howe'er you come to know it) answer me.

Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the yefty waves
Confound and fwallow Navigation up;

Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down,
Though caftles topple on their warders' heads;
Though places and pyramids do flope

Their heads to their foundation; though the treasure Of Nature's Germins tumble all together,

Even till deftruction ficken: answer me

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1 Witch. Say, if th' hadft rather hear it from our Or from our masters ?

Macb. Call 'em : let me fee 'em.

1 Witch. Pour in fow's blood, that hath eaten Her nine farrow: greafe, that's fweaten.

From the murd'rer's gibbet, throw

Into the flame:

All. Come high or low:

Thyfelf and office deftly fhow.

Apparition of an armed head arifes.

Macb. Tell me, thou unknown Power1 Witch. He knows thy thought: Hear his fpeech, but fay thou nought.

[Thunder.

App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff! Beware the Thane of Fife-dismiss me -enough. [Defcends. Macb. What-e'er thou art, for thy good Caution,

thanks.

Thou'ft harp'd my fear aright. But one word more— 1 Witch. He will not be commanded; here's another

More potent than the first.

[Thunder.

App.

Apparition of a bloody child rises.

App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

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 fhalt not live,
That I may tell pale-hearted fear, it lies;
And fleep in fpight of thunder.

[Thunders.

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

What is this.

That rifes like the iffue of a King,

And wears upon his baby-brow the round

And top of Sovereignty?

All Liften, but speak not.

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

Great Birnam-wood to Dunfinane's high hill

Shall come against him.

Macb. That will never be:

Who can impress the foreft, bid the tree

[Defcends.

Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet boadments! good!
*Rebellious head rife never, 'till the wood
Of Birnam rife, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the leafe of Nature, pay his breath
To time and mortal custom !-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.

Rebellious Dead rife never, ] We fhould read,

Rebellious Head

P 6

Warb.

Macb.

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