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Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
As sparrows, eagles ; or the hare the lion.
If I say footh, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks;
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,
I cannot tell :
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Dux. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds; They smack of honour both :-Go, get him surgeons.
[Exit Soldier, attended.
Who comes here?
Mal. The worthy thane of Rosse.
[he look, Len. What a haste looks through his eyes ! So should That seems to speak things strange.
Rosse. God save the king !
Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Rosse. 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 disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal 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 ;-
Dun. Great happiness !
Rosse. That now
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition ;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest:-Go, pronounce his death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
Rosse. I'll see it done.
Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
SCENE III. A Heath.
Thunder. Enter the three WITCHES. 1 Witch. Where haft thou been, sister? 2 Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sifter, where thou?
1 Witch. A failor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch’d, and mounch'd, and mounch'd :-Give
me, quoth I:
Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o’the Tiger ;
But in a sieve I'll thither fail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
1 Witch. Thou art kind.
3 WITCH. And I another.
I WITCH. I myself have all the other 3
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
.I’ the shipman's card.
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his penthouse lid;
He shall live a man forbid :
Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine :
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempeft-toft.
Look what I have.
2 Witch. Show me, show me."
1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.
3 WITCH. A drum, a drum;
Macbeth doth come.
All. The weird fifters, 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.
Enter MACBETH and BAN QUO.
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores? —What are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire ;
That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth,
And yet are on't ?-Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand 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
MACB. Speak, if you can ;-What are you?
1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt beking hereafter.
Ban. Good sir, why do you start ; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair ?-I'the name of truth,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,
That he seems rapt withal ; to me you speak not :
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. Hail !
I Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.
3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou bé none : So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo !
1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail!
Macb. Stay, you imperfect 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 prosperous gentleman; and, to be king, Stands not within the prospect 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 ?-Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them :
-Whither are they vanish'd ?
Mace. 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 infane 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 so ?
Ban. To the self-same tune, and words. Who's here?
Enter Rosse and ANGUS.
Rosse. 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' the self-fame day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afеard of what thyself didft make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
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 master, thanks ;
To herald thee into his fight, not pay thee.
Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade 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 thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me
In borrow'd robes ?