Spiteful, and wrathful; who, as others do, Loves for his own ends, not for
But make amends now: Get you gone, And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i' th' morning; thither he Will come to know his destiny. Your vessels, and your spells, provide, Your charms, and every thing beside: I am for th' air; this night I'll spend Unto a dismal-fatal end.
Great business must be wrought ere noon: Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vaporous drop profound; I'll catch it ere it come to ground: And that, distill'd by magick 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.
Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see, Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
1 Witch. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be
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
Was pitied of Macbeth:-marry, he was dead:- And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance kill'd, For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbain, To kill their gracious father? damned fact! How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight, In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,
That were the slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep? Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For 'twould have anger'd 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 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. But, peace!-for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
Macduff lives in disgrace: Sir, can you tell Where he bestows himself?
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, Lives in the English court; and is receiv'd Of the most pious Edward with such grace, That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect: Thither Macduff gone to pray the holy king, on his aid To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward: That, by the help of these, (with Him above To ratify the work,) we may again
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights; Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives; Do faithful homage, and receive free honours, All which we pine for now: And this report Hath so exasperate the king, that he Prepares for some attempt of war.
Lord. He did: and with an absolute, Sir, not I, The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums; as who should say, You'll rue the time, That clogs me with this answer.
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel Fly to the court of England, and unfold His message ere he come; that a swift blessing May soon return to this our suffering country Under a hand accurs'd!
My prayers with him! [Exeunt.
SCENE 1.-A dark cave. In the middle, a cauldron
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. 2 Witch. Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd. 3 Witch. Harper cries:-'Tis time, 'tis time.
1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go: In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under coldest stone, Days and nights hast thirty-one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' th' charmed pot!
All. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble. 2 Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake: Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. All. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf; Witches' mummy; maw, and gulf, Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark; Root of hemlock, digg'd i' th' dark; Liver of blaspheming Jew; Gall of goat, and slips of yew, Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse; Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips; Finger of birth-strangled babe, Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For th' ingredients of our cauldron.
All. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
2 Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter HECATE, and the other three Witches. Hec. O, well done! I commend your pains; And every one shall share i' th' gains. And now about the cauldron sing, Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
Black spirits and white, Red spirits 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.
Macb. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags?
Macb. I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me: Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders' heads; Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
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