Fleance, Son to Banquo.

Siward, Earl of Northumberland, General of the English forces:

Young Siward, his Son,

Seyton, an Officer attending on Macbeth.
Son to Macduff,

An English Doctor. A Scotch Doctor.

A Soldier. A Porter. An old Man.

Lady Macbeth.

Lady Macduff.

Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth.
Hecate, and three Witches.

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 Eng. land; through the rest of the play, in Scot land; and, chiefly, at Macbeth's castle.

MACBETH.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

An open place.

- Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.

1. Witch. When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2. Witch. When the hurly-burly's done, d When the battle's lost and won:

3. Witch.

1. Witch.

That will be ere the set of sun.
Where the place?

2. Witch. Upon the heath:

3. Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

1. Witch. I come, Gray-malkin!

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 re

port,

As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.

Mal. This is the serjeant,

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.

Sol. Doubtful it stood:

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together, And choke their art. The merciless Macdon

wald

(Worthy to be a rebel: for, to that,
The multiplying villainies of nature

Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallow-glasses is supply'd;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Shew'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too
weak:

For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,

Like valour's minion, carved out his passage,

Till he fac'd the slave:

Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to

him,

Till he unseam'd him from the naye to the

chops,

And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
Dun. O. valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Sol. As whence the sun 'gins his reflexion
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break;
So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to

come, Discomfort swells."

mark:

Mark, king of Scotland,

No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their

heels;

But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.

Dun. Dismay'd not this

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Sol.

Yes;

As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
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,
Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell:

But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun. So well thy words become thee, as thy

wounds;

get

They smack of honour both : Go, him sur[Exit Soldier, attended.]

geons,

Enter Rosse and ANGUS.

Who comes here?

Mal. 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?
Rosse. From Fife, great king,

Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.

Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor

The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,

Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, Curbing his lavish spirit: And to conclude, The victory fell on us;

Dun. Great happiness!

Rosse. That now

3

Sweno, the Norway's 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

greet Macbeth.

Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath

[Exeunt.]