Ay, and since too, murders 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 rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools.

Than such a murder is.

L. Mach.

This is more strange

My worthy lord,

I do forget.

Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb.

Do not muse1 at me, my most worthy friends:

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to

all;

Then I'll sit down:- -Give me some wine; fill

full:

I drink to the general joy of the whole table,

Ghost rises.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.2

Lords.

Our duties, and the pledge.

Macb. Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with!

I Wonder.

2 i. e. all good wishes to all.

L. Macb.

Think of this, good peers,

But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare.

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger:
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble. Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit 1 thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
[Ghost disappears.
Unreal mockery, hence!-Why, so ;-being gone,
I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still.

L. Macb. You have displaced the mirth, broke
the good meeting

With most admired disorder.

Macb.

Can such things be,

And overcome 2 us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange

Even to the disposition that I owe,3

When now I think you can behold such sights,

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse.

What sights, my lord?

L. Macb. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse

and worse;

Forbid.

2 Pass over.

3 Possess.

Question enrages him : at once, good night ;-
Stand not upon the order of your going,

Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will

have blood.

Stones have been known to move, and trees to

speak ;

Augurs, and understood relations,1 have

2

By magot-pies, and choughs,3 and rooks, brought

forth

The secret'st man of blood.—What is the night?
L. Macb. Almost at odds with morning, which is

which.

Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his

person,

At our great bidding?

L. Macb.

Did you send to him, sir?
Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(And betimes I will) to the weird sisters:

More shall they speak; for now I am bent to

By the worst means, the worst: for mine own

good,

All causes shall give way; I am in blood

Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.1
L. Macb. You lack the season of all natures,

sleep.

Macb. Come, we'll to sleep: my strange and

self-abuse

Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use.

We are yet but young in deed.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The heath.

Thunder. Enter HECATE, meeting the THREE

WITCHES.

1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate? you look an

gerly.

Hec. Have I not reason, beldams, as you are, Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare

To trade and traffic with Macbeth,

In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,

1 Examined nicely.

Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?

And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron

Meet me i' the morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside:
I am for the air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal and a fatal end.

Great business must be wrought ere noon:
Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vaporous drop profound; 1
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic slights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security

Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

SONG. [within.] Come away, come away,' &c.

A drop that has profound or hidden qualities.