Inverness.
Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.
Lady.
THEY met me in the day of success; and I have
learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than
mortal knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them
further, they made themselves air, into which they vanish'd.
While I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives
from the king, who all hail'd me Thane of Cawdor;
by which title, before, these weyward sisters saluted me,
and referred me to the coming on of time, with hail, king
that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee
(my dearest partner of greatness) that thou mightest not
lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness
is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor—and shalt be
What thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst strongly win. Thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, “thus thou must do, if thou have me;
“And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
“Than wishest should be undone.” Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
-- 15 --
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysic aid doth seem * note
To have crown'd withal.
Enter Messenger.
What are your tidings?
Mes.
The king comes here, to night.
Lady.
Thou'rt mad to say it.
Is not thy master with him? who, were it so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.
Mes.
So please you, it is true: our Thane is coming.
One of my fellows had the speed of him;
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his message.
Lady.
Give him tending;
He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,
[Exit Mes.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan,
Under my battlements. Come, all ye spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to th' toe, topfull
Of direct cruelty; make thick my blood;
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, ye murd'ring ministers!
Wherever in your sightless substances
Ye wait on nature's mischief—Come, thick night!
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark,† note
To cry, hold, hold!—
-- 16 --
Enter Macbeth.
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
[Embracing him.
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ign'rant present time, and I feel now
The future in the instant.
Macb.
Dearest love,
Duncan comes here, to-night.
Lady.
And when goes hence?
Macb.
To-morrow, as he purposes.
Lady.
Oh, never
Shall sun that morrow see!—
Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under't. He that's coming,
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come,
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb.
We will speak further of this business.
Lady.
Only look up clear:
To alter favour, ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.
[Exeunt.
John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
