SCENE VI.-Fores. A Room in the Palace. Enter LENOX and another Lord. Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret further: only, I say, Things have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth :-marry, he was dead: For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. That were the slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep? Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For 't would have angered any heart alive, To hear the men deny it. So that, I say, He has borne all things well: and I do think, That, had he Duncan's sons under his key (As, an't please heaven, he shall not), they should find What 't were to kill a father: so should Fleance. But peace!-for from broad words, and 'cause he failed His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear The son of Duncan, Lord. From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, Lives in the English court; and is received Of the most pious Edward with such grace, That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff is gone To pray the holy king, upon his aid, To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: Len. SCENE I.-A dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron boiling. Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 1st Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed. In the poisoned entrails throw.- All. All. In the cauldron boil and bake : All. 25 Be bloody, bold, Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee. App. And resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man; For none of woman born shall harm Macbeth. [Descends. Macb. Then live, Macduff: What need I fear of thee? But yet I'll make assurance double sure, That rises like the issue of a king; Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down! Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls :—and thy air, What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? Another yet?—A seventh ?—I'll see no more :- [Music. The Witches dance, and vanish. Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this per Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride; And damned all those that trust them!-I did hear The galloping of horse: Who was 't came by? Len "Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England. Macb. Fled to England? Len. Ay, my good lord. Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits: The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it: from this moment, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise; fool; This deed I'll do before this purpose cool: Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear. L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, His mansion, and his titles, in a place I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband, But cruel are the times when we are traitors, ward To what they were before.-My pretty cousin, Blessing upon you! L. Macd. Fathered he is, and yet he's father less. Rosse. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort: I take my leave at once. [Exit Rosse. L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead: And what will you do now? how will you live? Son. As birds do, mother. L. Macd. What, with worms and flies? Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. L. Macd. Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net, nor lime, The pit-fall, nor the gin. Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. 'L. Macd. Thou speak 'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith, With wit enough for thee. Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. Ay, that he was. Son. What is a traitor? L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. Son. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? L. Macd. Every one. Son. Who must hang them? L. Macd. Why, the honest men. Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men, and hang up them. L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father? Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. L. Macd. Poor prattler? how thou talk'st. Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds Mal. He hath not touched you yet. I am young; but something You may deserve of him through me: and wisdom Macd. I am not treacherous. A good and virtuous nature may recoil, In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your |