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* Re-enter fighting, and Macbeth is slain.

Retreat and Flourish. Enter with Drum and Colours, MALCOLM, Old SIWARD, Rosse, Thanes, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would the friends:we miss, were safe arriv'd.' Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,

great a day as this is cheaply bought. 360 Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:. only liv'd but till he was a man ; e which no sooner had his prowess confirm'a he unshrinking station where he fought, like a man he dy'd. w. Then he is dead? osse. Ay, and brought off the field : your cause of


t not be measur'd by his worth, for then th no end.

370 w. Had he his hurts before ? isse. Ay, on the front. V. Why then, God's soldier be he!

I as many sons as I have hairs, ild not wish them to a fairer death; so his knell is knoll’d. 1. He's worth more sorrow, that I'll spend for him. 1. He's worth no more; ey say, he parted well, and paid his score : 380 I ij

66 And

“ And so, God be with him !"—Here comes n


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Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH'S HeadMacd. Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, w

stands The usurper's cursed head: the time is free : I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds; Whose voices I desire aloud with mine, Hail, king of Scotland! All. Hail, king of Scotland !

[Flou Mal. We shall not spend a large expence of tin Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kins Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland In such an honour nam’d. What's more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time, As calling home our exil'd friends abroad, That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; Producing forth the cruel ministers Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen.; Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands. Took off her life ; This, and what needful else That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, We will perform in measure, time, and place : So thanks to all at once, and to each one, Whom we invite to see'd. at Scone.

[Flourish. Exer

The following Scenes are not in the original Copies, but

have been introduced in Representation, and set to Music by Mr. LOCKE, with alterations by Dr. ARNE.

[AT THE END OF THE SECOND ACT.] The Scene changes to a Wood. Thunder and Lightning.

Enter several Witches and sing.

1 Witch, SPEAK, sister,-is the deed done ?

2 ll'itch. Long ago, long ago; Above twelve glasses since have run.

3 Witch. Ill deeds are seldom slow, Dr single, but following crimes on former wait.

4 Il’itch. The worst of creatures safest propagate. Many more inurders must this one ensue;

Dread horrors still abound,
And ev'ry place surround,
As if in death were found

Propagation too.
& Witch. He must!

Witch. He shall! 4 Witch, He will spill much more blood, Ad become worse, to make his title good.

Chor. He will, he will spill much more blood, And become worse, to make his title good.

i Hitch, Now let's dance, 2 Witch, Agreed. 3

Fitch, Agreed.

Witch. Agrced,
All. Agreed.

Chor. We should rejoice when goo:l kings bleed.
When cattle dic, about, about wc go;
When lightning and dread thunder
Rend stubborn rocks in funder,
And fill the world with wonder,
What should we do?



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Chor, Rejoice--we should rejoice,
When winds and waves are warring,
Earthquakes the mountains tearing,
And monarchs die despairing,
What should we do?
Chor. Rejoice-we should rejoice.

1 Witch. Let's have a dance upon, the heat,
We gain more life by Duncan's death,

2 Witch. Sometimes like branded cats we shew,
Having no music but our mew,
'To which we dance in some old inill,
Upon the hopper, stone, or wheel,
To fome old saw, or bardish shime,
Chor. Where still the mill-clack does keep time.

Sometimes about a hollow tree,
Around, around, around dance we;
Thither the chirping crickets come,
And beetles sing in drowsy hum;
Sometimes we dance o'er fernes or surze,
To howls of wolves, or barks of curs;
Or if with none of these we meet,

Chor. We dance to th' echoes of our feet.

Chor. At the night-raven's dismal voice,
When others tremble we rejoice,
And nimbly, nimbly dance we still,
To th' echoes from a hollow hill,


Witches within.
Hitch. Hecate, Hecate,-coine away.

Hec. Haik, hark, I'm called,
My little merry airy spirit see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and waits for me.
Witch. Hecate, Hecate, Hecate.

(Within. Hec. Thy chirping voice I hear, So pleasing to my ear.

At alich I post away,

all the speed I may.
c's Puckle ?

Enter Witches,
ech, Here.

Where Stradling? ich. Here. Hopper too, and Hellway too, want but you, we want but you. joi. Come away, come away, make up th’account . With new fall'n dew, church-yard yew, abut ’noint, and then I'll mount. I'm furnish'd for my flight.

[Symphony, whilst Hecate places herself in the Machine. I go, and now I fly, kin my sweet spirit and I. hat a dainty pleasure's this, hil in the air, in the moon shines fair, big, to dance, to toy and kiss, it woods, high rocks and mountains Perhills and misty fountains ; pner stecples, tow'rs, and turrets, Nefy by night 'mong troops of spiritse, lkor. We fly by night ’mong !roops of spirits. The Sixth Scene of the Third Act in this copy is omitted it.


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