SCENE I-An open Place. Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches. I Witch. When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? 2 Witch. When the hurlyburly 's done, When the battle 's lost and won: 3 Witch. That will be ere the set of sun. I Witch. 2 Witch. Where the place? Upon the heath: 3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth. 1 Witch. I come, Graymalkin! by lat Cathy Spm per All. Paddock calls :-Anon. Fair is foul, and foul is fair:med alle Hover through the fog and filthy air. SCENE II.—A camp near Forres. Alarum within. Farrera de Enter King DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier. Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought Say to the king the knowledge of the broil, fical ball. As thou didst leave it. As two spent swimmers, that do cling together, The multiplying villainies of nature 4 that end Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles Like valour's minion, carv'd out his passage, Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Compell'd these skipping kernes to trust their heels, With furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault. Dun. Dismay'd not this our captains, Macbeth and Banquo ? If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks; So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe : Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, I cannot tell: But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honour both :--Go, get him surgeons. Who comes here? Mal. Enter ROSSE. [Exit Soldier, attended. The worthy thane of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look that seems to speak things strange. Rosse. God save the king! Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, Norway himself, with terrible numbers, The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict: Dun. Rosse. That now Great nappiness! Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Ten thousand dollars to our general use. Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest :-Go, pronounce his present 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 hast thou been, sister? 2 Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sister, where thou? I Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, to chews with ca Like 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 sail, 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. Th' art kind. 3 Witch. And I another. I Witch. I myself have all the other; And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I' the shipman's card. I'll drain him dry as hay : Sleep shall neither night nor day Compass Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine, VOL. III. 4 Wrack'd, as homeward he did come. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum : Macbeth doth come. All. The weird sisters, 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 BANQUO. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. How far is 't call'd to Forres?-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 That you are so. Macb. Speak, if you can ;--What are you? I Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth that shalt be king 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 You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not : And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, 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 be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! I Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more : |