Macb. Thanks for that. There the grown ferpent lies; the worm, that's fied, No teeth for the prefent. Get thee gone; to-morrow Lady. My royal Lord, [Exit Murtherer. You do not give the cheer; the feaft is fold, That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making 'Tis given with welcome. To feed, were belt at home; From thence, the fauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it. The ghost of Banquo rifes, and fits in Macbeth's place. Macb. Sweet remembrancer! -Now good digeftion wait on appetite, Len. May't pleafe your highness fit! Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd perfon of our Banque prefent, Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness, Than pity for mischance! Roffe. His abfence, Sir, Lays blame upon his promife. Please it your highness To grace us with your royal company? Macb. The table's full. Len. Here is a place referv'd, Sir. Len. Here, my good Lord. What is't that moves your highness? Macb. Which of you have done this !: [Starting, Mach. Thou can't not fay, I did it. Never hake Thy gory locks at me. Roffe. Gentlemen, rife; his highness is not well, He will again be well. If much you note him, To Macbeth afide. Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that, Which might appal the devil. Lady. Lady. O proper ftuff! his is the very painting of your fear; ed you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts, npoftors to true fear, would well become woman's story at a winter's fire, uthoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make fuch faces? When all's done, Macb. Pr'ythee, see there! [Afide. Behold! look! lo! how fay you? [Peinting to the ghoft. Why, what care I? if thou canst nod, speak too. If charnel-houses and our graves must fend Those that we bury, back; our monuments Lady. What quite unmann'd in folly? Mach. If I ftand here, I saw him. Lady. Fie, for shame! [The ghoft vanishes. Macb. Blood hath been fhed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal; Ay, and fince too, murthers have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rife again With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns, And push us from our ftools. This is more strange Lady. My worthy Lord, Your noble friends do lack you. Macb. I do forget. Do not mufe at me, my moft worthy friends. I have a ftrange infirmity, which is nothing To thofe that know me. Come, love and health to all Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. [The Ghost rifes again. Macb. Avaunt, and quit my fight! Let the earth hide thee; Thy Thy bones are marrowlefs, thy blood is cold; eyes, Lady. Think of this, good peers, But as a thing of cuftom; 'tis no other; Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The baby of a girl. Hence, terrible shadow! Macb. Can fuch things be, And overcome us, like a fummer's cloud, [meeting Without our special wonder? You make me ftrange Even to the difpofition that I owe, When now I think, you can behold fuch fights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheek, When mine is blanch'd with fear. Roffe. What fights, my Lord? Lady. I pray you, speak not; he grows worfe and worse; Question enrages him. At once good-night. Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once. Len. Good-night, and better health Attend his Majesty! Lady. Good-night to all. [Exeunt Lords. Mach. It will have blood.-They say, blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak ; By magotpies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth Lady. Almoft at odds with morning, which is which. Mach. Macb. How fay'ft thou, that Macduff denies his person, t our great bidding? Lady. Did you send to him, Sir? Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will fend. There's not a Thane of them, but in his house Stept in fo far, that, fhould I wade no more, Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; We're yet but young in deed. N°. VI.-MACBETH. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. A dark Cave; in the middle, a great Cauldron burning. WITCH. THRICE the brindedTCH mew'd. 2 Witch. Twice and once the hedge-pig whin'd. 3 Witch. Harper cries, 'tis time, 'tis time. 1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go, In the poifon'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, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye Eye of newt, and toe of frog, All. Double, double, toil and trouble; 3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, All. Double, double, toil and trouble: 2 Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good. Enter Hecate, and other three Witches. And now about the cauldron fing, Like elves and fairies in a ring, Inchanting all that you put in. Mufick 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. } } Enter |