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Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Thou hast harp'd my fear aright. But one word Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,

more, Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,

First Witch. He will not be commanded : Finger of birth-strangled babe

here's another, Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,

More potent than the first.
Make the gruel thick and slab :
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,

Thunder. Second Apparition, a bloody Child. For the ingredients of our cauldron.

Second App. Macbeth ! Macbeth ! Macbeth! All. Double, double toil and trouble ;

Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee. Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Second App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute ;
Second Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, laugh to scorn
Then the charm is firm and good.

The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.


Macb. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear Hec. 0! well done! I commend your pains, of thee? And every one shall share i’ the gains. 40 But yet I'll make assurance doubly sure, And now about the cauldron sing,

And take a bond of fate : thou shalt not live; Like elves and fairies in a ring,

That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
Enchanting all that you put in.

And sleep in spite of thunder.
Music and a Song, Black spirits,' etc.
Second Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs,

Thunder. Third Apparition, a Child crowned, Something wicked this way comes.

with a tree in his hand. Open, locks,

What is this Whoever knocks.

That rises like the issue of a king,

And wears upon his baby brow the round

And top of sovereignty?
Macb. How now, you secret, black, and mid- AU.

Listen, but speak not to't. night hags!

Third App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take What is 't you do ? AU. A deed without a name.

Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are : Macb. I conjure you, by that which you Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until profess,

Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Howe'er you come to know it, answer me : Shall come against him.

Descends. Though you untie the winds and let them fight Macb.

That will never be : Against the churches ; though the yesty waves Who can impress the forest, bid the tree Confound and swallow navigation up;

Unfix his earth-bound root ? Sweet bodements! Though bladed corn be lodg'd and trees blown good! down;

Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood Though castles topple on their warders' heads; Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth Though palaces and pyramids do slope

Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath Their heads to their foundations ; though the To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart treasure

Throbs to know one thing : tell me, if your art Of nature's germens tumble all together, Can tell so much, shall Banquo's issue ever Even till destruction sicken ; answer me 60 Reign in this kingdom ? To what I ask you.


Seek to know no more. First Witch. Speak

Macb. I will be satisfied : deny me this, Second Witch.


And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. Third Witch.

We'll answer. Why sinks that cauldron ? and what noise is Pirst Witch. Say if thou'dst rather hear it from


Hautboys. our mouths,

First Witch. Show ! Or from our masters ?

Second Witch. Show! Macb.

Call 'em ; let me see 'em. Third Witch. Show ! First Witch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart ; eaten

Come like shadows, so depart.
Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet throw

A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in Into the flame.

his hand ; Banquo's Ghost following. AU. Come, high or low;

Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; Thyself and office deftly show.


Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls : and thy Thunder. First Apparition, an armed Head.

hair, Macb. Tell me, thou unknown power,

Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first : Pirst Witch.

He knows thy thought : A third is like the former. Filthy hags! Hear his speech, but say thou nought. 70 Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, Pirst App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth ! eyes ! beware Macduff ;

What I will the line stretch out to the crack of Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss

doom? Enough.

Descends. Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more : Macb. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass thanks ;

Which shows me many more ; and some I see





you word

That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry. Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true ; 122 All is the fear and nothing is the love;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, As little is the wisdom, where the flight
And points at them for his. Apparitions vanish. So runs against all reason.
What! is this so? Ross.

My dearest coz Pirst Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so ; but why I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, Stands Macbeth thus amazedly ?

He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,

The fits o' the season, I dare not speak much And show the best of our delights.

further; I'll charm the air to give a sound,

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors While you perform your antick round,

130 | And do

know ourselves, when we hold That this great king may kindly say, Our duties did his welcome pay.

From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, Music. The Witches dance, and then But float upon a wild and violent sea

vanish with HECATE. Each way and move. I take my leave of you: Macb. Where are they ? Gone? Let this per- Shall not be long but I'll be here again. nicious hour

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb Stand aye accursed in the calendar!

upward Come in, without there !

To what they were before. My pretty cousin,

Blessing upon you !

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. Len.

What's your grace's will? Ross. I am so much a fool, should I stay Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?

longer, Len.

No, my lord. It would be my disgrace and your discomfort : Macb. Came they not by you?

I take my leave at once.

Exit. Len.

No indeed, my lord. L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead: * Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride, And what will you do now? How will you live! And damn'd all those that trust them ! I did hear Son. As birds do, mother. The galloping of horse : who was 't came by? 140 L. Macd. What! with worms and flies! Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do ther.

L. Macd. Poor bird I thou 'dst never fear the Macduff is fled to England.

net nor lime, Macb.

Fled to England. The pitfall nor the gin. Len. Ay, my good lord.

Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they Macb. Aside. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread are not set for. exploits ;

My father is not dead, for all your saying. The flighty purpose never is o'ertook

L. Macd. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do Unless the deed go with it; from this moment for a father? The very firstlings of my heart shall be

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband ! The firstlings of my hand. And even now, L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought market. and done :

Son. Then you 'll buy 'em to sell again. The castle of Macduff I will surprise ;

L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and Seize upon Fife ; give to the edge o' the sword yet, i' faith, His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls With wit enough for thee. That trace him in his line. No boasting like a Son. Was my father a traitor, mother! fool;

L. Macd. Ay, that he was. This deed I'll do before this purpose cool : Son. What is a traitor ? But no more sights! Where these gentle- L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. men ?

Son. And be all traitors that do so! Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt. L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor,

and must be hanged.

Son. And must they all be hanged that swear SCENE II.-Fife. MACDUFF's Castle. and lie ?

L. Macd. Every one. Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and Ross.

Son. Who must hang them ? L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly L. Macd. Why, the honest men. the land?

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools, Ross. You must have patience, madam. for there are liars and swearers enough to beat L. Macd.

He had none : the honest men and hang up them. His flight was madness : when our actions do not, L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkes! Our fears do make us traitors.

But how wilt thou do for a father! Ross.

You know not Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him ; if Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

you would not, it were a good sign that I should L. Macd. Wisdom ! to leave his wife, to leave quickly have a new father. his babes,

L. Macd. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! His mansion and his titles in a place From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;

Enter a Messenger. He wants the natural touch ; for the poor wren, Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you The most diminutive of birds, will fight,






Though in your state of honour I am perfect. Macd.

I have lost my hopes. I doubt some danger does approach you nearly : Mal. Perchance even there where I did find If you will take a homely man's advice,

my doubts. Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. Why in that rawness left you wife and child, To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, To do worse to you were fell cruelty, 71 Without leave-taking? I pray you, Which is too nigh your person. Heaven pre- Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, serve you!

But mine own safeties: you may be rightly just, I dare abide no longer.

Exit. Whatever I shall think.
L. Macd.
Whither should I fly? Macd.

Bleed, bleed, poor country! 31
I have done no harm. But I remember now Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou
Is often laudable, to do good sometime

thy wrongs; Accounted dangerous folly ; why then, alas! The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord : Do I put up that womanly defence,

I would not be the villain that thou think'st To say I have done no harm ?

For the whole space that's in the tyrant's Enter Murderers.


And the rich East to boot.
What are these faces ? Mal.

Be not offended : First Mur. Where is your husband ? 80 I speak not as in absolute fear of you.

L. Macd. I hope in no place so unsanctified I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; Where such as thou may'st find him.

It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash Pirst Mur.

He's a traitor.' Is added to her wounds; I think withal Son. Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain ! There would be hands uplifted in my right; First Mur.

What ! you egg. And here from gracious England have I offer

Stabbing him. Of goodly thousands : but for all this, Young fry of treachery!

When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Son.

He has kill'd me, mother: Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country Run away, I pray you.

Dies. Shall have more vices than it had before, Exit Lady MACDUFF, crying 'Murder,' More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, and pursued by the Murderers. By him that shall succeed.


What should he be ?

Mal. It is myself I mean; in whom I know SCENE III.- England. Before the King's Palace. All the particulars of vice so grafted, Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF.

That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth

Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state Mol. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd there

With my confineless harms. Weep our sad bosoms empty.


Not in the legions Macd.

Let us rather Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men In evils to top Macbeth, Bestride our down-fall’n birthdom ; each new Mal.

I grant him bloody,

Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds That has a name ; but there's no bottom, none, As if it felt with Scotland and yelld out In my volnptuousness : your wives, your Like syllable of dolour.

daughters, Mal.

What I believe I'll wail, Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up What know believe, and what I can redress, The cistern of my lust; and my desire As I shall find the time to friend, I will. All continent impediments would o'erbear What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. That did oppose my will; better Macbeth This tyrant, whose solename blisters ourtongues, Than such an one to reign. Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him Macd.

Boundless intemperance

In nature is a tyranny ; it hath been He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but The untimely emptying of the happy throne, something

And fall of many kings. But fear not yet You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom To take upon you what is yours; you may To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb

Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, To appease an angry god.

And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. Macd. I am not treacherous.

We have willing dames enough; there cannot be Mal.

But Macbeth is. That vulture in you, to devour so many A good and virtuous nature may recoil

As will to greatness dedicate themselves, In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your Finding it so inclin'd. pardon;


With this there grows That which you are my thoughts cannot trans. In my most ill-compos'd affection such pose;

A stanchless avarice that, were I king, Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; I should cut off the nobles for their lands, Though all things foul would wear the brows of Desire his jewels and this other's house ; grace,

And my more-having would be as a sauce Yet grace must still look so.

To make me hunger more, that I should forge









Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

This avarice Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will, Of your mere own; all these are portable, With other graces weigh'd.

Mal. But I have none: the king-becoming graces,

As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them, but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.




O Scotland, Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak : I am as I have spoken.


Fit to govern! No, not to live. O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, Since that the truest issue of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee,


Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she liv'd. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!


Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts To thy good truth and honour. Devilish


By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste; but God above 120
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight

No less in truth than life; my first false speaking
Was this upon myself. What I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country's to command;
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand war-like men,
Already at a point, was setting forth.
Now we'll together, and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel. Why are you



Doct. Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls

That stay his cure; their malady convinces
The great assay of art; but at his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.

Mal. I thank you, doctor. Exit Doctor.
Macd. What's the disease he means!
'Tis call'd the evil:
A most miraculous work in this good king,
Which often, since my here-remain in England,
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows; but strangely-visited

All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers; and 'tis spoken
To the succeeding royalty he leaves

The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things

at once

"Tis hard to reconcile.

He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,

And sundry blessings hang about his throne That speak him full of grace.

Enter Ross.


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Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Mal. I know him now. Good God, betimes


The means that makes us strangers!

Sir, amer.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did!
Alas! poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air

Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow


A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's

Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.


O! relation

Too nice, and yet too true.


What's the newest grief! Ross. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;

Each minute teems a new one.
Macd. How does my wife?



Ross. Well too.

Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

Ross. No; they were well at peace when I di leave 'em.

Why, well.

And all my children!

Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes 't?

Ross. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour

Enter a Doctor.

Mal. Well; more anon. Comes the king forth, Of many worthy fellows that were out; Which was to my belief witness'd the rather

I pray you?


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For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot. Cut short all intermission ; front to front
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Bring thon this fiend of Scotland and myself ;
Would create soldiers, make our women fight, Within my sword's length set him ; if he 'scape,
To doff their dire distresses.

Heaven forgive him too!
Be't their comfort Mal.

This tune goes manly. We are coming thither. Gracious England hath Come, go we to the king ; our power is ready ; Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men ; 191 Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth An older and a better soldier none

Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above That Christendom gives out.

Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer Ross.

Would I could answer you may ; This comfort with the like! But I have words The night is long that never finds the day. That would be howl'd out in the desert air,

Exeunt. Where hearing should not latch them. Macd.

What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief

ACT V. Due to some single breast?

SCENE I. - Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Ross.

No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe, though the main part Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-GentlePertains to you alone. Macd. If it be mine

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, Keep it not from me; quickly let me have it.

but can perceive no truth in your report. When Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue was it she last walked ? for ever,

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I Which shall possess them with the heaviest have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightsound

gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth That ever yet they heard.

paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards Macd.

Hum! I guess at it. seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this Ross. Your castle is surpris'd ; your wife and while in a most fast sleep. babes

Doct. A great perturbation in nature, to receive Savagely slaughter'd ; to relate the manner,

at once the benefit of sleep and do the effects Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,

of watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides To add the death of you.

her walking and other actual performances, Mal.

Merciful heaven!

what, at any time, have you heard her say ? What ! man; ne'er pull your hat upon your Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after brows;

her. Give sorrow words ; the grief that does not Doct. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you speak

210 should. Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it Gent. Neither to you nor any one, having no break.

witness to confirm my speech.
Macd. My children too?
Wife, children, servants, all

Enter Lady MACBETH, with a taper.
That could be found.

Lo you! here she comes. This is her very Macd.

And I must be from thence ! guise ; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe My wife kill'd too?

her; stand close. Ross. I have said,

Doct. How came she by that light? Mal.

Be comforted: Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by Let's make us medicines of our great revenge, her continually ; 'tis her command. To cure this deadly grief.

Doct. You see, her eyes are open. Macd. He has no children. All my pretty ones? Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut. Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?

Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how What ! all my pretty chickens and their dam she rubs her hands. At one fell swoop ?

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to Mal. Dispute it like a man.

seem thus washing her hands. I have known Macd.

I shall do so ;

her continue in this a quarter of an hour. But I must also feel it as a man :

Lady M. Yet here's a spot. I cannot but remember such things were,

Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down That were most precious to me. Did heaven what comes from her, to satisfy my remem. look on,

brance the more strongly. And would not take their part ? Sinful Macduff! Lady M. Out, damned spot ! out, I say! One ; They were all struck for thee. Naught that I am, two: why, then 'tis time to do 't. Hell is murky! Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afеard? What Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them need we fear who knows it, when none can call now!

our power to account? Yet who would have Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword : | thought the old man to have had so much blood let grief

in him? Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Doct. Do you mark that? Macd. O! I could play the woman with mine Lady M. The Thane of Fife had a wife: eyes,

21 where is she now? What! will these hands And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no heavens

more o' that : you mar all with this starting.



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