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Fleance, son to Banquo.
Siward, Earl of Northumberland, general of the Eng
Young Siward, his son.
Seyton, an officer attending on Macbeth.
An English Doctor.
A Scotch Doctor.
An old Man.
Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth.
Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants, and Messengers.
The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Apparitions.
SCENE-in the end of the fourth act, lies in England; through the rest of the play, in Scotland; and, chiefly, at Macbeth's castle.
SCENE 1.-An open Place. Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.
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 set of sun. 1 Witch. Where the place?
Upon the heath:
-3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.
I Witch. I come, Graymalkin!
All. Paddock calls:-Anon.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair;
Hover through the fog and filthy air. [Witches vanish.
SCENE II-A Camp near Fores. Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.
Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.
This is the sergeant,
Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'Gainst my captivity:-Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil, As thou didst leave it.
Doubtfully it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
Like valour's minion,
Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;
And 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,
Dismay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
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. [Exit Soldier, attended.
-Who comes here?
The worthy thane of Rosse.
Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should
That seems to speak things strange.
God save the king!
From Fife, great king.
Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Rosse. That now
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch,
'Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest :-Go, pronounce his death,
Rosse. I'll see it done: