SCENE III.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch.
Where hast thou been, sister?
2 Witch.
Killing swine.
3 Witch.
Sister, where thou?
1 Witch.
A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap,
And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht:—Give me, quoth I.
6 note
Aroint thee, witch! the 7 note
rump-fed 8 note
ronyon cries.
-- 455 --
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the Tyger:
But in a sieve I'll thither sail9 note
,
1 note
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
2 Witch.
I'll give thee a wind2 note
.
-- 456 --
1 Witch.
Thou art kind.
3 Witch.
And I another.
1 Witch.
I myself have all the other;
3 note
And the very points they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card4 note
.
I will drain him dry as hay5 note
:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
6 note
He shall live a man forbid:
-- 457 --
Weary seven-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle7 note
, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.
2 Witch.
Shew me, shew me.
1 Witch.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.
[Drum within.
3 Witch.
A drum, a drum;
Macbeth doth come.
All.
8 note
The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
-- 458 --
Thus do go about, about;
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine:
Peace!—the charm's wound up.
-- 459 --
Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
Mac.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
-- 460 --
Ban.
How far is't call'd to Fores9 note?—What are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth,
And yet are on't?—Live you? or are you aught
1 noteThat man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips:—You should be women,
-- 461 --
And yet your beards2 note
forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
Macb.
Speak, if you can;—What are you?
1 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth3 note
! hail to thee, thane of Glamis4 note!
-- 462 --
2 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor5 note!
3 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.
Ban.
Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?—I'the name of truth,
6 note
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
-- 463 --
Which outwardly ye shew? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having7 note
, and of royal hope,
That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not:
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say, which grain will grow, and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.
1 Witch.
Hail!
2 Witch.
Hail!
3 Witch.
Hail!
1 Witch.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
2 Witch.
Not so happy, yet much happier.
3 Witch.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!
1 Witch.
Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail!
Mac.
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
8 noteBy Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and, to be king,
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
-- 464 --
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetick greeting?—Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish.
Ban.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them:—Whither are they vanish'd?
Macb.
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted
As breath into the wind.—'Would they had staid!
Ban.
Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we 9 note
eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?
Macb.
Your children shall be kings.
Ban.
You shall be king.
Macb.
And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban.
To the self-same tune, and words. Who's here?
Enter Rosse, and Angus.
Rosse.
The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebel's fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his1 note
: Silenc'd with that 9Q0499,
-- 465 --
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. 2 note
As thick as tale,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Ang.
We are sent,
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
Rosse.
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
Ban.
What, can the devil speak true?
Macb.
The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me
In borrow'd robes?
Ang.
Who was the thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
-- 466 --
Combin'd 3 note
with Norway; or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.
Macb.
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind.—Thanks for your pains.—
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?
Ban.
That, trusted home4 note 9Q0500,
5 noteMight yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.—Cousins, a word I pray you.
Macb.
Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the 6 note
swelling act
Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.—
7 note
This supernatural solliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good:—If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
-- 467 --
If good, 8 note
why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears9 note
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my 1 notesingle state of man, that 2 note
function
-- 468 --
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,
But what is not.
Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Macb.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
Without my stir.
Ban.
New honours, come upon him
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould,
But with the aid of use.
Macb.
Come what come may;
3 note
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
-- 469 --
Ban.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Macb.
Give me your favour:—4 note
my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn
The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the king.—
Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it5 note, let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.
Ban.
Very gladly.
Macb.
'Till then, enough.—Come, friends.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and Attendants.
King.
Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?
-- 470 --
Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
6 noteWith one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he dy'd
As one that had been 7 notestudied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.
King.
There's no art,
8 noteTo find the mind's construction in the face 9Q0502;
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.—O worthiest cousin!
Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompence is slow
To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
-- 471 --
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay 9Q0503.
Macb.
The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part.
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne and state, children, and servants;
9 note
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing9Q0504
Safe toward your love and honour 9Q0505.
-- 472 --
King.
Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.—Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me enfold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban.
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
King.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow 9Q0506.—Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers.—From hence to Inverness1 note,
And bind us further to you 9Q0507.
Macb.
The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
-- 473 --
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
King.
My worthy Cawdor!
Macb.
The prince of Cumberland2 note
!—That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
[Aside.
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires:
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
[Exit.
King.
True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Enter Macbeth's wife alone, with a letter.
Lady.
—They met me in the day of success; and I
-- 474 --
have learned 3 noteby 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. Whiles 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 weird
sisters saluted me, and referr'd 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 might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant
of what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart,
and farewel.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis'd:—Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o'the milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way: Thou would'st be great;
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly,
That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false,
And yet would'st wrongly win: 4 note
thou'd'st have, great Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
5 note
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
-- 475 --
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear6 note
;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
7 note
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.—What is your tidings?
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
The king comes here to-night.
Lady.
Thou'rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him? who, wer't 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,
-- 476 --
He brings great news. 8 note
The raven himself is hoarse,
[Exit Mes.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits9 note
That tend on 1 note
mortal thoughts,9Q0510 unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, 2 note
nor keep peace between
-- 477 --
The effect, 3 note
and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And 4 notetake my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
5 noteYou wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night6 note
,
-- 478 --
7 note
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife 8 note
9Q0512 see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark9 note
,
1 note
To cry, Hold, hold!—Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor2 note
!
-- 479 --
Enter Macbeth.
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
3 note
This ignorant present time4 note
, and I feel now
-- 480 --
The future in the instant.
Macb.
My 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 book5 note
, where men
May read strange matters:—To beguile the time,
Look like the time6 note
9Q0515; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it. 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.
Lady.
Only look up clear;
To alter favour ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.
[Exeunt.
-- 481 --
SCENE VI.
Hautboys and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.
King.
This castle hath a pleasant seat 9Q0516; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
7 note
Unto out gentle senses.
Ban.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting 8 note
martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of vantage9 note, but this bird
-- 482 --
Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle:
Where they 1 notemost breed and haunt, I have observ'd,
The air is delicate.
Enter Lady Macbeth.
King.
See, see! our honour'd hostess!—
The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you,
2 note
How you shall bid God yield us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.
Lady.
All our service
In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house: For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
3 note
We rest your hermits.
-- 483 --
King.
Where's the thane of Cawdor?
We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur4 note
, hath holp him
To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.
Lady.
5 note
Your servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.
King.
Give me your hand:
Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.
[Exeunt.
-- 484 --
SCENE VII.
Hautboys and torches. Enter a sewer6 note, and divers servants
with dishes and service over the stage. Then enter Macbeth.
Macb.
7 note
If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: 8 note
If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
-- 485 --
9 note
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and 1 note
shoal of time,—
We'd jump the life to come2 note
.—But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice3 note
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
4 note
Hath borne his faculties so meek,9Q0517 hath been
-- 486 --
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongu'd, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, 5 note
or heavens cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
6 noteThat tears shall drown the wind.—I have no spur7 note
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition 9Q0518, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other8 note
—How now! what news?
-- 487 --
Enter Lady9 note
.
Lady.
He has almost supp'd; Why have you left the chamber?
Macb.
Hath he ask'd for me?
Lady.
Know you not, he has?
Macb.
We will proceed no further in this business:
He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
Lady.
Was the hope drunk 9Q0519,
Wherein you drest yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afraid
-- 488 --
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? 1 note
Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem;
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
2 note
Like the poor cat i' the adage?
Macb.
Pr'ythee, peace3 note
:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
Lady.
What beast was it then,
That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place,
-- 489 --
4 noteDid then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know
How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I but so sworn
As you have done to this.
Macb.
If we should fail,—
Lady.
We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking place5 note
,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him) his two chamberlains
6 note
Will I with wine and wassel so convince,
-- 490 --
That memory, the warder of the brain7 note
,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason8 note
-- 491 --
9 noteA limbeck only: When in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie, as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spungy officers; 1 note
who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?
Macb.
Bring forth men-children only!
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have don't?
Lady.
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?
Macb.
I am settled, and bend up2 note
-- 492 --
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a torch before him.
3 noteBan.
How goes the night, boy?
Fle.
The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
Ban.
And she goes down at twelve.
Fle.
I take't, 'tis later, sir.
Ban.
Hold, take my sword:—There's husbandry in heaven,
Their candles are all out 9Q0521.—Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: 4 note
Merciful powers!
-- 493 --
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose!—Give me my sword;—
Enter Macbeth, and a servant with a torch.
Who's there?
Macb.
A friend.
Ban.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
He hath5 note been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your officers:
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up6 note
In measureless content,
Macb.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought7 note
.
Ban.
All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weïrd sisters:
-- 494 --
To you they have shew'd some truth.
Macb.
I think not of them:
Yet, when we can intreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.
Ban.
At your kind'st leisure.
Macb.
8 note
If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
It shall make honour for you.
Ban.
So I lose none,
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsel'd.
Macb.
Good repose, the while!
Ban.
Thanks, sir; The like to you!
[Exit Banquo.
Macb.
Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[Exit Serv.
Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me 9 note
clutch thee:—
-- 495 --
I have thee not; and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
1 note
And on thy blade, and dudgeon, 2 note
gouts of blood,
-- 496 --
Which was not so before.—There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes.—3 note
Now o'er the one half world
-- 497 --
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep4 note; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; 5 note
and wither'd murder,
-- 498 --
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
6 note
With Tarquin's ravishing strides 9Q0524, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.—7 note
Thou sure and firm-set earth,
-- 499 --
Hear not my steps, 8 note
which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about9 note
,
1 note
And take the present horror from the time,
-- 500 --
Which now suits with it.—While I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
[Exit.
-- 501 --
SCENE II.
Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold;
What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:—Hark!—Peace!
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell-man,
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd their possets2 note
,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live, or die.
Macb. [Within.]
Who's there?—what, ho!
Lady.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done:—the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us:—Hark!—I laid their daggers ready,
He could not miss them.—3 note
Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had don't.—My husband?
-- 502 --
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
I have done the deed:—Didst thou not hear a noise?
Lady.
I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macb.
When?
Lady.
Now.
Macb.
As I descended?
Lady.
Ay.
Macb.
Hark!—Who lies i'the second chamber?
Lady.
Donalbain.
Macb.
This is a sorry sight.
[Looking on his hands.
Lady.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
Macb.
There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry'd, murder!
That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
Again to sleep.
Lady.
There are two lodg'd together.
Macb.
One cry'd, God bless us! and, Amen, the other;
As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands,
4 note
Listening their fear. I could not say, amen,
-- 503 --
When they did say, God bless us.
Lady.
Consider it not so deeply.
Macb.
But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen?
I had most need of blessing, and amen
Stuck in my throat.
Lady.
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb.
Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd 5 note
sleave of care,
6 note
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
-- 504 --
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast7 note
;—
Lady.
What do you mean?
Macb.
Still it cry'd, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady.
Who was it, that thus cry'd? Why, worthy thane,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brain-sickly of things:—Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.—
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: Go, carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.
Macb.
I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again, I dare not.
Lady.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: The sleeping, and the dead,
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil8 note
. If he do bleed,
I'll 9 note
gild the faces of the grooms withal,
-- 505 --
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit. Knocking within.
Macb.
Whence is that knocking!
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha! they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood1 note
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas 2 note
incarnardine 9Q0526,
Making the green—one red3 note
note, first made this
elegant and necessary change, which has hitherto been adopted
without acknowledgment.
Steevens.
9Q0527.
-- 506 --
Re-enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
My hands are of your colour 9Q0528; but I shame
To wear a heart so white. I hear a knocking
[Knock.
At the south entry;—retire we to our chamber:
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then? Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.—Hark! more knocking:
[Knock.
Get on your night-gown, lest occasion call us,
And shew us to be watchers:—Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts,
Macb.
4 note
To know my deed,—'Twere best not know myself.
[Knock.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would, thou couldst!
[Exeunt.
-- 507 --
SCENE III.
Enter a Porter.
[Knocking within.]
Port.
Here's a knocking, indeed!
If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should
have old turning the key. [Knock.] Knock, knock,
knock: Who's there, i'the name of Belzebub? Here's
a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of
plenty: come in time; have napkins 5 note
enough about
you; here you'll sweat for't. [Knock.] Knock, knock:
Who's there, i'the other devil's name? 'Faith, 6 notehere's
an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales
against either scale; who committed treason enough
for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven:
oh, come in, equivocator. [Knock.] Knock, knock,
knock: Who's there? 'Faith, 7 note
here's an English taylor
-- 508 --
come hither, for stealing out of a French hose:
come in, taylor; here you may roast your goose.
[Knock] Knock, knock: Never at quiet! What are
you? But this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter
it no further: I had thought to have let in some
of all professions, that go the primrose way to the
everlasting bonfire. [Knock] Anon, anon; I pray you,
remember the porter.
Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
Mac.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?
Port.
'Faith, sir, we were carousing 'till the second
cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three
things.
Macd.
What three things doth drink especially
provoke?
Port.
Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes
the desire, but it takes away the performance:
Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator
with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him;
it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not
stand to: in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep,
and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
-- 509 --
Macd.
I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night.
Port.
That it did, sir, i'the very throat o'me: But
I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too
strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime,
yet 8 note
I made a shift to cast him.
Macd.
Is thy master stirring?—
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Len.
Good-morrow, noble sir!
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
Good-morrow, both!
Macd.
Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
Macb.
Not yet.
Macd.
He did command me to call timely on him;
I have almost slipt the hour.
Macb.
I'll bring you to him.
Macd.
I know, this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet, 'tis one.
Macb.
The labour we delight in, physicks pain.
This is the door.
Macd.
I'll make so bold to call,
For 'tis my limited service9 note.
[Exit Macduff.
Len.
Goes the king hence to-day?
Macb.
He does: he did appoint so.
Len.
The night has been unruly: Where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say,
-- 510 --
Lamentings heard i'the air; 1 note
strange screams of death;
And prophesying, with accents terrible,9Q0530
Of dire combustion, and confus'd events,
New hatch'd to the woeful time: The obscure bird
Clamour'd the live-long night: some say, the earth
Was feverous, and did shake.
Macb.
'Twas a rough night.
Len.
My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.
Re-enter Macduff.
Macd.
O horror! horror! horror! 2 note
Tongue, nor heart,
-- 511 --
Cannot conceive, nor name thee!
Macb. and Len.
What's the matter?
Macd.
Confusion now hath made his master-piece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o'the building.
Macb.
What is't you say? the life?
Len.
Mean you his majesty?
Macd.
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake! awake!—
[Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.
Ring the alarum-bell:—Murder! and treason!
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!—up, up, and see
The great doom's image!—Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
To countenance 3 notethis horror!9Q0531—Ring the bell.
Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak,—
Macd.
O, gentle lady,
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition in a woman's ear,
Would murder as it fell.—O Banquo! Banquo!
-- 521 --
Enter Banquo.
Our royal master's murder'd!
Lady.
Woe, alas!
4 noteWhat, in our house?
Ban.
Too cruel, any where.—
5 note
Dear Duff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself,
And say, it is not so.
Re-enter Macbeth, and Lenox.
Macb.
Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain.
Don.
What is amiss?
Macb.
You are, and do not know it:
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopt; the very source of it is stopt.
Macd.
Your royal father's murder'd.
-- 513 --
Mal.
Oh, by whom?
Len.
Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood6 note
,
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows; they star'd, and were distracted;
No man's life was to be trusted with them.
Macb.
O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Macd.
Wherefore did you so?
Macb.
Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and furious,
Loyal and neutral in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Out-ran the pauser reason.—7 note
Here lay Duncan,
-- 514 --
8 noteHis silver skin lac'd with his golden blood 9Q0533;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
9 note
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: Who could refrain,
-- 515 --
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make his love known?
-- 516 --
Lady.
Help me hence, ho!
Macd.
Look to the lady 9Q0534.
Mal.
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?
Don.
What should be spoken here,
Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,
May rush, and seize us? Let's away, our tears
Are not yet brew'd.
Mal.
Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.
Ban.
Look to the lady:—
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure1 note
, let us meet,
And question this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
2 note
In the great hand of God I stand; and, thence,
-- 517 --
Against the undivulg'd pretence 9Q0535 I fight
Of treasonous malice.
Macb.
And so do I.
All.
So all.
Macb.
Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
And meet i'the hall together.
All.
Well contented.
[Exeunt.
Mal.
What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
To shew an unfelt sorrow, is an office
Which the false man does easy: I'll to England.
Don.
To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody3 note
.
Mal.
4 note
This murderous shaft that's shot,
-- 518 --
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is, to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Rosse, with an Old Man.
Old M.
Threescore and ten I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time, I have seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
Rosse.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?
Old M.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On tuesday last,
A faulcon, towring 5 note
in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd.
Rosse.
And Duncan's horses, (a thing most strange, and certain)
-- 519 --
Beauteous, and swift, 6 note
the minions of their race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with mankind.
Old M.
'Tis said, they eat each other.
Rosse.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff:—
Enter Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd.
Why, see you not?
Rosse.
Is't known, who did this more than bloody deed?
Macd.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Rosse.
Alas, the day!
7 note
What good could they pretend?
Macd.
They were suborn'd:
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Rosse.
'Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means!—Then 'tis most like8 note
,
-- 520 --
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macd.
He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone,
To be invested.
Rosse.
Where is Duncan's body?
Macd.
Carried to Colmes-kill9 note;
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.
Rosse.
Will you to Scone?
Macd.
No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Rosse.
Well, I will thither.
Macd.
Well, may you see things well done there;—adieu!—
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Rosse.
Farewel, father.
Old M.
God's benison to go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter Banquo.
Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
As the weïrd women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou playd'st most foully for't: yet it was said,
It should not stand in thy posterity;
-- 521 --
But that myself should be the root, and father
Of many kings: If there come truth from them,
(1 note
As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,
And set me up in hope? But, hush; no more.
Senet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King; Lady Macbeth, Lenox, Rosse, Lords, and Attendants.
Macb.
Here's our chief guest.
Lady.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all things unbecoming.
Macb.
To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir,
And I'll request your presence 9Q0537.
Ban.
2 noteLay your highness'
Command upon me; to the which, my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tye
For ever knit.
Macb.
Ride you this afternoon?
Ban.
Ay, my good lord.
Macb.
We should have else desir'd your good advice
(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous)
In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
Is't far you ride?
Ban.
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better3 note
,
-- 522 --
I must become a borrower of the night,
For a dark hour, or twain.
Macb.
Fail not our feast.
Ban.
My lord, I will not.
Macb.
We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd
In England, and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention: But of that to-morrow;
When, therewithal, we shall have cause of state,
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: Adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
Ban.
Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon us.
Macb.
I wish your horses swift, and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewel.—
[Exit Banquo.
Let every man be master of his time
'Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
'Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you.
[Exeunt Lady Macbeth, and Lords.
Sirrah, a word with you: Attend those men our pleasure?
Ser.
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
Macb.
Bring them before us.—To be thus, is nothing;
[Exit Servant.
But to be safely thus:—Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
-- 523 --
Reigns that, which would be fear'd: 'Tis much he dares;
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none, but he,
Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
My genius is rebuk'd; 4 note
as, it is said,
Mark Antony's was by Cæsar. He chid the sisters,
When first they put the name of King upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown,
And put a barren scepter in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
-- 524 --
No son of mine succeeding. If it be so,
5 note
For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to 6 notethe common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, 7 note
come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance!—Who's there?—
-- 525 --
Re-enter Servant, with two Murderers.
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
[Exit Servant.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
Mur.
It was, so please your highness.
Macb.
Well then, now
Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know,
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune; which, you thought, had been
Our innocent self: this I made good to you
In our last conference, past in probation with you;
8 note
How you were borne in hand; how crost; the instruments;
-- 526 --
Who wrought with them; and all things else, that might,
To half a soul, and to a notion craz'd,
Say, Thus did Banquo.
1 Mur.
You made it known to us.
Macb.
I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? 9 note
Are you so gospell'd,
To pray for this good man, and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours for ever?
1 Mur.
We are men, my liege 9Q0541.
Macb.
Ay, in the catalogue you go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mungrels, spaniels, curs,
1 note
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are cleped
All by the name of dogs: the valued file2 note
-- 527 --
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
Not in the worst rank of manhood, say it;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.
2 Mur.
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
-- 528 --
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what
I do, to spite the world.
1 Mur.
And I another,
3 note
So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it, or be rid on't.
Macb.
Both of you
Know, Banquo was your enemy.
Mur.
True, my lord.
Macb.
So is he mine: and 4 note
in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
Against my near'st of life: And though I could
With bare-fac'd power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it; yet I must not,
For certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Whom I myself struck down: and thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love;
-- 529 --
Masking the business from the common eye,
For sundry weighty reasons.
Mur.
We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.
1 Mur.
Though our lives—
Macb.
Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour, at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
5 note
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'the time,
The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
And something from the palace; always thought6 note
,
That I require a clearness: And with him,
(To leave no rubs, nor botches, in the work)
-- 530 --
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour: Resolve yourselves apart;
I'll come to you anon.
Mur.
We are resolv'd, my lord.
Macb.
I'll call upon you straight; abide within.
It is concluded:—Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.
Lady.
Is Banquo gone from court?
Serv.
Ay, madam; but returns again to-night.
Lady.
Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
For a few words.
Serv.
Madam, I will.
[Exit.
Lady.
Nought's had, all's spent,
Where our desire is got without content:
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.
Enter Macbeth.
How now, my lord? why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies7 note
your companions making?
Using those thoughts, which should indeed have dy'd
With them they think on? Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what's done, is done.
Macb.
We have 8 note
scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it,
-- 531 --
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
9 note
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams,
That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace1 note
,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
2 note
In restless ecstacy.—Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further!
Lady.
Come on; Gentle my lord,
Sleek o'er your rugged looks; be bright and jovial
Among your guests to-night.
Macb.
So shall I, love;
And so, I pray, be you: let your remembrance
-- 532 --
Apply to Banquo; 3 notepresent him eminence, both
With eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we
Must lave our honours in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
Lady.
You must leave this.
Macb.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Lady.
But in them 4 note
nature's copy's not eterne.
Macb.
There's comfort yet, they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund: Ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight 9Q0543; ere, to black Hecat's summons,
5 note
The shard-borne beetle 9Q0544, with his drowsy hums,
-- 533 --
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.
-- 534 --
Lady.
What's to be done?
Macb.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck6 note
,
'Till thou applaud the deed. 7 note
Come, seeling night,
Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel, and tear to pieces, that great bond
Which keeps me pale!—8 note
Light thickens; and the crow
-- 535 --
9 note
Makes wing to the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowze;
While night's black agents to their preys do rouze.
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill:
So, pr'ythee, go with me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter three Murderers.
1 Mur.
1 noteBut who did bid thee join with us?
3 Mur.
Macbeth.
2 Mur.
He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers
Our offices, and what we have to do,
To the direction just.
1 Mur.
Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,
-- 536 --
To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The subject of our watch.
3 Mur.
Hark! I hear horses.
[Banquo within.]
Give us a light there, ho!
2 Mur.
Then it is he; the rest
That are within 2 notethe note of expectation,
Already are i'the court.
1 Mur.
His horses go about.
3 Mur.
Almost a mile: but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
Make it their walk.
Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch.
2 Mur.
A light, a light!
3 Mur.
'Tis he.
1 Mur.
Stand to't.
Ban.
It will be rain to-night.
1 Mur.
Let it come down.
[They assault Banquo.
Ban.
Oh, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly;
Thou may'st revenge.—Oh slave!
[Dies. Fleance escapes.
3 Mur.
Who did strike out the light?
1 Mur.
3 noteWas't not the way?
3 Mur.
There's but one down; the son is fled.
2 Mur.
We have lost best half of our affair.
1 Mur.
Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
[Exeunt.
-- 537 --
SCENE IV.
A banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and Attendants.
Macb.
4 note
You know your own degrees, sit down: at first,
And last, the hearty welcome.
Lords.
Thanks to your majesty.
Macb.
Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state5 note; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.
Lady.
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
For my heart speaks, they are welcome.
Enter first Murderer, to the door.
Macb.
See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks:—
Both sides are even: Here I'll sit i'the midst:
Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
-- 538 --
The table round.—There's blood upon thy face.
Mur.
'Tis Banquo's then.
Macb.
6 note
'Tis better thee without, than he within.
Is he dispatch'd?
Mur.
My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
Macb.
Thou art the best o'the cut-throats: Yet he's good,
That did the like for Fleance: if thou did'st it,
Thou art the non-pareil.
Mur.
Most royal sir,
Fleance is 'scap'd.
Macb.
Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;
As broad, and general, as the casing air:
But now, I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
Mur.
Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes7 note
on his head;
The least a death to nature.
Macb.
Thanks for that:—
There the grown serpent lies; the worm, that's fled,
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for the present.—Get thee gone; to-morrow
We'll hear, ourselves again.
[Exit Murderer.
-- 539 --
Lady.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold8 note
,
That is not often vouch'd while 'tis a making,
'Tis given with welcome: To feed, were best at home;
From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
[Enter the ghost of Banquo9 note
, and sits in Macbeth's place.
Macb.
Sweet remembrancer!—
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Len.
May it please your highness sit?
Macb.
Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness,
Than pity for mischance!
Rosse.
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness
To grace us with your royal company?
Macb.
The table's full.
-- 540 --
Len.
Here is a place reserv'd, sir.
Macb.
Where?
Len.
Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?9Q0546
Macb.
Which of you have done this?
Lords.
What, my good lord?
Macb.
Thou can'st not say, I did it: never shake
Thy goary locks at me.
Rosse.
Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well.
Lady.
Sit worthy friends:—my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again be well: If much you note him,
You shall offend him, and 1 noteextend his passion;
Feed, and regard him not.—Are you a man?
Macb.
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appall the devil.
Lady.
2 noteO proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn-dagger, which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. 3 note
Oh, these flaws, and starts,
-- 541 --
(Impostors to true fear,) would well become
A woman's story, at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
You look but on a stool.
Macb.
Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?—
Why, what care I? If thou can'st nod, speak too.—
If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send
Those that we bury, back; our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites4 note
.
Lady.
What! quite unmann'd in folly?
Macb.
If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady.
Fie, for shame!
Macb.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time,
5 note
Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end: but now, they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Lady.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.
Macb.
I do forget:—
-- 542 --
Do not muse at me6 note
, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down:—Give me some wine, fill full:—
I drink to the general joy of the whole table,
Re-enter Ghost.
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
7 note
And all to all.
Lords.
Our duties, and the pledge.
Macb.
Avant! and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!
Lady.
Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Macb.
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
-- 543 --
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tyger8 note,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
9 note
If trembling I inhabit, then protest me
The baby of a girl.9Q0548 Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!—Why, so;—being gone,
I am a man again.—Pray you, sit still.
Lady.
You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,
With most admir'd disorder.
Macb.
1 note
Can such things be,
-- 544 --
And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder? 2 note
You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheek,
When mine is blanch'd with fear3 note
.
-- 545 --
Rosse.
What sights, my lord?
Lady.
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him: at once, good night:—
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.
Len.
Good night, and better health,
Attend his majesty!
Lady.
A kind good night to all!
[Exeunt Lords.
Macb.
It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
4 note
Augurs, and understood relations, have
-- 546 --
By magot-pies,9Q0551 and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.—What is the night?
Lady.
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
Macb.
5 note
How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person,
At our great bidding?
Lady.
Did you send to him, sir?
Macb.
I hear it by the way; but I will send:
6 noteThere's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(And betimes I will) unto the weïrd sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good,
All causes shall give way; I am in blood
-- 547 --
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd7 note
.
Lady.
8 note
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Macb.
Come, we'll to sleep: My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:—
9 note
We are yet but young in deed.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate1 note
.
1 Witch.
Why, how now, Hecat'? you look angerly.
-- 548 --
Hec.
Have I not reason, beldams, as you are,
Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth,
In riddles, and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or shew the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spightful, and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: Get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron2 note
Meet me i'the morning; thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels, and your spells, provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside:
-- 549 --
I am for the air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal and a fatal end.
Great business must be wrought ere noon:
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a 3 note
vaporous drop profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic 4 noteslights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion:
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security
Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
[Music and a song.
Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
[Sing within. Come away, come away, &c.
1 Witch.
Come, let's make haste, she'll soon be back again.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
5 noteEnter Lenox, and another Lord.
Len.
My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
-- 550 --
Which can interpret further: only, I say,
Things have been strangely borne: The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth:—marry, he was dead:—
And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance kill'd,
For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought 9Q0554, how monsterous
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbain,
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,
That were the slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep?
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive,
To hear the men deny it. So that, I say,
He has borne all things well: and I do think,
That, had he Duncan's sons under his key,
(As, an't please heaven, he shall not) they should find
What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
But, peace!—for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
Macduff lives in disgrace: Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?
Lord.
6 noteThe son of Duncan,
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court; and is receiv'd
Of the most pious Edward with such grace,
-- 551 --
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect: Thither Macduff is gone7 note
To pray the holy king, upon his aid
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward:
That, by the help of these, (with Him above
To ratify the work) we may again
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights;
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives8 note
;
Do faithful homage, 9 note
and receive free honours,
All which we pine for now: And this report
Hath so exasperate 1 notethe king, that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.
Len.
Sent he to Macduff?
Lord.
He did: and with an absolute, Sir, not I,
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums; as who should say, You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer.
Len.
And that well might
Advise him to a caution2 note
, to hold what distance
-- 552 --
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come; that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering country,
Under a hand accurs'd 9Q0555!
Lord.
I'll send my prayers with him.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
3 note
SCENE I.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch.
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd4 note
.
2 Witch.
Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd5 note
.
-- 553 --
3 Witch.
Harper cries6 note:—'tis time, 'tis time7 note
.
1 Witch.
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.—
-- 554 --
Toad, that under the cold stone,
Days and nights hast thirty one,
-- 555 --
Swelter'd venom8 note
sleeping got,
Boil thou first i'the charmed pot!
All.
9 note
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
1 Witch.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake:
-- 556 --
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting1 note
,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
All.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
3 Witch.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf;
Witches' mummy; maw, and gulf2 note,
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark3 note
;
Root of hemlock, digg'd i'the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew,
Sliver'd4 note
in the moon's eclipse;9Q0556
5 noteNose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tyger's chaudron6 note,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
-- 557 --
All.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
2 Witch.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter Hecate, and other three Witches.
Hec.
Oh, well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i'the gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Inchanting all that you put in.
Musick and a song7 note
.
Black spirits and white,
Blue spirits and grey 9Q0557;
Mingle, mingle, mingle,
You that mingle may.
2 Witch.
By the pricking of my thumbs8 note,
Something wicked this way comes:—
Open, locks, whoever knocks.
-- 558 --
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags?
What is't you do?
All.
A deed without a name.
Macb.
I conjure you, by that which you profess,
(Howe'er you come to know it) answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the 9 noteyesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down;
Though castles topple1 note
on their warders' heads;
Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
2 note
Of nature's germins tumble all together,
-- 559 --
Even 'till destruction sicken, answer me
To what I ask you.
1 Witch.
Speak.
2 Witch.
Demand.
3 Witch.
We'll answer.
1 Witch.
Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters'?
Macb.
Call them, let me see them.
1 Witch.
Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow; grease, that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet, throw
Into the flame.
All.
Come, high, or low;
Thyself, and office, deftly show3 note
.
[Thunder.
1st 4 note
Apparition, an armed head.
Macb.
Tell me, thou unknown power,—
-- 560 --
1 Witch.
He knows thy thought;
Hear his speech, but say thou nought5 note
.
App.
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;
Beware the thane of Fife6 note.—Dismiss me:—Enough.
[Descends.
Macb.
What-e'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright7 note
:—But one word more—
1 Witch.
He will not be commanded: Here's another,
More potent than the first.
[Thunder.
2d Apparition, a bloody child.
App.
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!—
Macb.
Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.
App.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute: laugh to scorn
The power of man; for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth8 note.
[Descends.
-- 561 --
Macb.
Then live, Macduff; What need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear, it lies,
And sleep in spight of thunder.—What is this,
[Thunder.
3d Apparition, a child crowned, with a tree in his hand.
That rises like the issue of a king;
And wears upon his baby brow 9 note
the round
And top of sovereignty?
All.
Listen, but speak not to't.
App.
Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to 1 note
high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him 9Q0558.
[Descends.
Macb.
That will never be:
2 noteWho can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodements! good!
3 note
Rebellious head, rise never, 'till the wood
-- 562 --
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal custom.—Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing; Tell me, (if your art
Can tell so much) shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?
All.
Seek to know no more.
Macb.
I will be satisfy'd: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! let me know:—
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
[Hautboys.
1 Witch.
Shew!
2 Witch.
Shew!
3 Witch.
Shew!
All.
Shew his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart.
[4 noteA shew of eight kings, and Banquo; the last with a glass in his hand.
Macb.
Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
5 noteThy crown does sear mine eye-balls:—6 note
And thy air,
-- 563 --
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first:—
A third is like the former:—Filthy hags!
Why do you shew me this?—A fourth?—Start, eyes!
What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom7 note
?—
Another yet?—A seventh?—I'll see no more:—
And yet the eight appears, who bears a glass8 note
,
-- 564 --
Which shews me many more; and some I see,
9 note
That twofold balls and treble scepters carry:
Horrible sight!—Now, I see, 'tis true;
For 1 note
the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.—What? is this so?
1 Witch.
Ay, sir, all this is so:—But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?—
Come, sisters, chear we up his sprights,
And shew the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antique round:
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.
[Musick.
[The witches dance and vanish.
Macb.
Where are they? Gone?—Let this pernicious hour
-- 565 --
Stand aye accursed in the calendar2 note
!—
Come in, without there!
Enter Lenox.
Len.
What's your grace's will?
Macb.
Saw you the weïrd sisters?
Len.
No, my lord.
Macb.
Came they not by you?
Len.
No, indeed, my lord.
Macb.
Infected be the air whereon they ride;
And damn'd, all those that trust them!—I did hear
The galloping of horse: Who was't came by?
Len.
'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word,
Macduff is fled to England.
Macb.
Fled to England?
Len.
Ay, my good lord.
Macb.
3 noteTime, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits;
The flightly purpose never is o'er-took,
Unless the deed go with it: From this moment,
The very firstlings4 note
of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now
-- 566 --
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o'the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line5 note
. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool:
But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Macduff's wife, her son, and Rosse.
L. Macd.
What had he done, to make him fly the land?
Rosse.
You must have patience, madam.
L. Macd.
He had none:
His flight was madness: When our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
Rosse.
You know not,
Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
L. Macd.
Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion, and his titles, in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the 6 notenatural touch: for the poor wren7 note
,
-- 567 --
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
Rosse.
My dearest coz',
I pray you, school yourself: But, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o'the season8 note
. I dare not speak much further:
But cruel are the times, 9 note
when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; 1 note
when we hold rumour
-- 568 --
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear;
But float upon a wild and violent sea,
Each way, and move.—I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before.—My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!
L. Macd.
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
Rosse.
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.
[Exit Rosse.
L. Macd.
Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son.
As birds do, mother.
L. Macd.
What, with worms and flies?
Son.
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
L. Macd.
Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net, nor lime,
The pit-fall, nor the gin.
Son.
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
L. Macd.
Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
Son.
Nay, how will you do for a husband?
L. Macd.
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
Son.
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
L. Macd.
Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet i'faith,
With wit enough for thee.
-- 569 --
Son.
Was my father a traitor, mother?
L. Macd.
Ay, that he was.
Son.
What is a traitor?
L. Macd.
Why, one that swears and lies.
Son.
And be all traitors, that do so?
L. Macd.
Every one that does so, is a traitor, and
must be hang'd.
Son.
And must they all be hang'd, that swear and
lie?
L. Macd.
Every one.
Son.
Who must hang them?
L. Macd.
Why, the honest men.
Son.
Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there
are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men,
and hang up them.
L. Macd.
Now God help thee, poor monkey! But
how wilt thou do for a father?
Son.
If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you
would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly
have a new father.
L. Macd.
Poor prattler! how thou talk'st!
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect2 note
.
I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
-- 570 --
3 noteTo do worse to you, were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.
[Exit Messenger.
L. Macd.
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world: where, to do harm,
Is often laudable; to do good, sometime,
Accounted dangerous folly: Why then, alas!
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say, I have done no harm?—What are these faces?
Enter Murderers.
Mur.
Where is your husband?
L. Macd.
I hope, in no place so unsanctified,
Where such as thou may'st find him.
Mur.
He's a traitor.
Son.
Thou ly'st, thou shag-ear'd villain4 note
.
Mur.
What, you egg?
Young fry of treachery?
Son.
He has kill'd me, mother:
Run away, I pray you.
[Exit L. Macduff, crying Murder.
-- 571 --
SCENE III.
England.
5 note
Enter Malcolm, and Macduff.
Mal.
Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.
-- 572 --
Macd.
6 note
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men,
-- 573 --
7 noteBestride our down-faln birthdom: Each new morn,
New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds.
-- 574 --
As if it felt with Scotland, 8 note
and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.
Mal.
What I believe, I'll wail;
What know, believe; and, what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend9 note, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him well;
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something
1 note
You may deserve of him through me: and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb,
To appease an angry god.
Macd.
I am not treacherous.
Mal.
But Macbeth is.
2 note
A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
In an imperial charge, But I shall crave your pardon;
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose:
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell:
3 noteThough all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
-- 575 --
Yet grace must still look so.
Macd.
I have lost my hopes.
Mal.
Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts.
4 note
Why in that rawness left you wife, and child,
(Those precious motives, those strong knots of love)
Without leave-taking?—I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
But mine own safeties:—You may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.
Macd.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dares not check thee!—5 notewear thou thy wrongs,
6 note
His title is affear'd! 9Q0561—Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st,
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
-- 576 --
And the rich East to boot.
Mal.
Be not offended:
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think, our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds: I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: But, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before;
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.
Macd.
What should he be?
Mal.
7 noteIt is myself I mean: in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted,
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.
Macd.
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd,
In evils, to top Macbeth.
Mal.
I grant him bloody,
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
8 note
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name: But there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o'er-bear,
-- 577 --
That did oppose my will: Better Macbeth,
Than such a one to reign.
Macd.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny: it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-wink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.
Mal.
With this, there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house:
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good, and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
Macd.
This avarice
Sticks deeper; 9 note
grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming 9Q0562 lust: and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: Yet do not fear;
Scotland hath 1 note
foysons to fill up your will,
-- 578 --
Of your mere own: All these are portable 9Q0563,
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.
Macd.
Oh Scotland! Scotland!
Mal.
If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.
Macd.
Fit to govern!
No, not to live.—O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholsome 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,
Oftner upon her knees than on her feet,
Dy'd every day she lived 9Q0564. Fare thee well!
These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself,
Have banish'd me from Scotland.—O, my breast,
-- 579 --
Thy hope ends here!
Mal.
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 Macbeth
By many of these trains, hath sought to win me
Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste 9Q0565: But God above
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 warlike men,
2 note
All ready at a point,9Q0566 was setting forth:
Now we'll together; 3 note
And the chance, of goodness,
-- 580 --
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?
Macd.
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once,
'Tis hard to reconcile.
Enter a Doctor.
Mal.
Well; more anon.—Comes the king forth, I pray you?
Doct.
Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched souls,
That stay his cure: their malady convinces4 note
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.
Macd.
What's the disease he means?
Mal.
'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 sollicits heaven,
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
-- 581 --
Hanging a golden stamp5 note
about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: 6 note
and 'tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.
Enter Rosse.
Macd.
See, who comes here?
Mal.
7 noteMy countryman; but yet I know him not.
Macd.
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
Mal.
I know him now: Good God, betimes remove
The means that make us strangers!
Rosse.
Sir, Amen.
-- 582 --
Macd.
Stands Scotland where it did?
Rosse.
Alas, poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air8 note
,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
9 note
A modern ecstacy: the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd, for whom; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying, or ere they sicken.
Macd.
Oh, relation,
Too nice, and yet too true!
Mal.
What is the newest grief?
Rosse.
That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.
Macd.
How does my wife?
Rosse.
Why, well.
Macd.
And all my children?
Rosse.
Well too.
Macd.
The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?
Rosse.
No; they were all at peace, when I did leave them.
Macd.
Be not a niggard of your speech; How goes it?
Rosse.
When I came hither to transport the tidings,
-- 583 --
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses1 note
.
Mal.
Be it their comfort,
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men;
An older, and a better soldier, none
That Christendom gives out.
Rosse.
'Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words,
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing 2 note
should not catch them.
Macd.
What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a 3 note
fee-grief,
Due to some single breast?
-- 584 --
Rosse.
No mind, that's honest,
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.
Macd.
If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Rosse.
Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound,
That ever yet they heard.
Macd.
Hum! I guess at it.
Rosse.
Your castle is surpriz'd; your wife, and babes,
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer4 note
To add the death of you.
Mal.
Merciful heaven!—
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows5 note
;
Give sorrow words: the grief, that does not speak6 note
,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Macd.
My children too?
Rosse.
Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
Macd.
And I must be from thence!
-- 585 --
My wife kill'd too?
Rosse.
I have said.
Mal.
Be comforted:
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macd.
7 note
He has no children.9Q0568—All my pretty ones?
Did you say, all?—Oh, hell-kite!—All?
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
At one fell swoop8 note
?
Mal.
Dispute it like a man9 note
.
Macd.
I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
-- 586 --
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.—Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them now!
Mal.
Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd.
Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue!—But, gentle heaven,
Cut short all intermission1 note
; front to front,
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven, forgive him too!
Mal.
2 noteThis tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
3 notePut on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long, that never finds the day.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
Enter a Doctor of physic, and a waiting Gentlewoman.
Doct.
I have two nights watch'd with you, but
can perceive no truth in your report. When was it
she last walk'd?
-- 587 --
Gent.
Since his majesty went into the field, I have
seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon
her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,
write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and again
return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
Doct.
A great perturbation in nature! to receive at
once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching.
—In this slumbry agitation, besides her walking,
and other actual performances, what, at any time,
have you heard her say?
Gent.
That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Doct.
You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you
should.
Gent.
Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness
to confirm my speech.
Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.
Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise;
and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand
close.
Doct.
How came she by that light?
Gent.
Why, it stood by her: she has light by her
continually; 'tis her command.
Doct.
You see, her eyes are open.
Gent.
Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct.
What is it she does now? Look, how she
rubs her hands.
Gent.
It is an accustom'd action with her, to seem
thus washing her hands; I have known her continue
in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady.
Yet here's a spot4 note
.
-- 588 --
Doct.
Hark, she speaks: I will set down what
comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more
strongly.
Lady.
Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One; Two;
Why, then 'tis time to do't:—5 note
Hell is murky!—
Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afraid? what need
we fear who knows it, when none can call our power
to account?—Yet who would have thought the old
man to have had so much blood in him?
Doct.
Do you mark that?
Lady.
The thane of Fife had a wife; Where is she
now?—What, will these hands ne'er be clean?—
No more o'that, my lord, no more o'that: you mar
all with this starting.
Doct.
Go to, go to; you have known what you
should not.
Gent.
She has spoke what she should not, I am sure
of that: Heaven knows what she has known.
Lady.
Here's the smell of the blood still: all the
perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
Oh! oh! oh!
Doct.
What a sigh is there? The heart is sorely
charg'd.
Gent.
I would not have such a heart in my bosom,
for the dignity of the whole body.
Doct.
Well, well, well,—
Gent.
Pray God, it be, sir.
-- 589 --
Doct.
This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I
have known those which have walk'd in their sleep,
who have died holily in their beds.
Lady.
Wash your hands, put on your night-gown;
look not so pale:—I tell you yet again, Banquo's
buried; he cannot come out of his grave.
Doct.
Even so?
Lady.
To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the
gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your
hand; What's done, cannot be undone: To bed, to
bed, to bed.
[Exit Lady.
Doct.
Will she go now to bed?
Gent.
Directly.
Doct.
Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine, than the physician.—
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her:—So, good-night:
6 note
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.
Gent.
Good night, good doctor.
[Exeunt.
-- 590 --
SCENE II.
Drum and Colours. Enter Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.
Ment.
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward7 note, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
8 note
Excite the mortified man.
Ang.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
Cath.
Who knows, if Donalbain be with his brother?
Len.
For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths9 note, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
Ment.
What does the tyrant?
Cath.
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
-- 591 --
Some say, he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.
Ang.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those, he commands, move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.
Ment.
Who then shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,
1 note
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself, for being there?
Cath.
Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the medecin2 note of the sickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.
Len.
Or so much as it needs,
3 note
To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam.
[Exeunt, marching.
-- 592 --
SCENE III.
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.
Macb.
4 noteBring me no more reports; let them fly all:
'Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences, have pronounc'd me thus5 note:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power upon thee.—Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the 6 note
English epicures:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt7 note
, nor shake with fear.
-- 593 --
Enter a Servant.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon8 note
!
Where got'st thou that goose look 9Q0571?
Ser.
There is ten thousand—
Macb.
Geese, villain?
Ser.
Soldiers, sir.
Macb.
Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lilly-liver'd boy9 note
. What soldiers, patch1 note?
Death of thy soul! 2 note
those linnen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Ser.
The English force, so please you.
Macb.
Take thy face hence.—Seyton!—I am sick at heart,
-- 594 --
When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push
Will cheer me ever, or3 note
disseat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: 4 note
my May of life
-- 595 --
Is fall'n into the sear5 note
, the yellow leaf:9Q0573
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seyton!—
Enter Seyton.
Sey.
What is your gracious pleasure?
Macb.
What news more?
Sey.
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Macb.
I'll fight, 'till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.—
Give me my armour.
Sey.
'Tis not needed yet.
Macb.
I'll put it on.
-- 596 --
Send out more horses, 6 note
skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear.—Give me mine armour.—
How does your patient, doctor?
Doct.
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.
Macb.
Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;9Q0574
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
7 note
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doct.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb.
Throw physick to the dogs, I'll none of it.—
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:—
Seyton, send out.—Doctor, the thanes fly from me:—
-- 597 --
Come, sir, dispatch:—If thou could'st, doctor, 8 note
cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.—Pull't off, I say.—
What rhubarb, senna* note, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence?—Hearest thou of them?
Doct.
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
Macb.
Bring it after me.—
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
'Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
Doct.
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff,
Siward's Son, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, and Soldiers marching.
Mal.
Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand,
That chambers will be safe.
Ment.
We doubt it nothing.
Siw.
What wood is this before us?
Ment.
The wood of Birnam.
Mal.
Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him; thereby shall w shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.
-- 598 --
Sold.
It shall be done.
Siw.
We learn no other, 9 note
but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.
Mal.
'Tis his main hope:
1 note
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.
Macd.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
-- 599 --
Industrious soldiership.
Siw.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
2 note
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must 3 note
arbitrate:
Towards which, advance the war.
[Exeunt, marching.
SCENE V.
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers with drums and colours.
Macb.
Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie,
'Till famine, and the ague, eat them up:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?
[A cry within, of women.
Sey.
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb.
I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my 4 note
fell of hair
-- 600 --
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir
As life were in't: 5 note
I have supt full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry?
Sey.
The queen, my lord, is dead.
Macb.
6 note
She should have dy'd hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.—
-- 601 --
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
7 note
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
8 note
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
-- 602 --
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an ideot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.—
Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
Mes.
Gracious my lord,
I should report that which, I say I saw,
But know not how to do't.
Macb.
Well, say, sir.
Mes.
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
Macb.
Liar, and slave!
[Striking him.
Mes.
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
Macb.
If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
9 note
'Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
-- 603 --
I care not if thou dost for me as much.—
1 note
I pull in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, 'till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;—and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.—Arm, arm, and out!—
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
-- 604 --
There is no flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the estate o'the world were now undone.—
Ring the alarum bell:—Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and their Army, with Boughs.
Mal.
Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
And shew like those you are:—You, worthy uncle,
Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Siw.
Fare you well.—
Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
Macd.
Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.
SCENE VII.
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
They have ty'd me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course2 note
.—What's he,
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.
-- 605 --
Enter young Siward.
Yo. Siw.
What is thy name?
Macb.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw.
No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
Macb.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw.
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
Macb.
No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[Fight; and young Siward is slain.
Macb.
Thou wast born of woman.—
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
[Exit.
Alarums. Enter Macduff.
Macd.
That way the noise is:—Tyrant, shew thy face;
If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited3 note
: Let me find him, fortune! and
More I beg not.
[Exit. Alarum.
-- 606 --
Enter Malcolm and old Siward.
Siw.
This way, my lord;—the castle's gently render'd:
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
Mal.
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Siw.
Enter, sir, the castle.
[Exeunt. Alarum.
Re-enter Macbeth.
Macb.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
Re-enter Macduff.
Macd.
Turn, hell-hound, turn.
Macb.
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.
Macd.
I have no words,
My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!
[Fight. Alarum.
Macb.
Thou losest labour:
As easy may'st thou the 4 note
intrenchant air
-- 607 --
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
5 note
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Macd.
Despair thy charm;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.
Macb.
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That 6 note
palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.—I'll not fight with thee.
Macd.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the shew and gaze o'the time.
-- 608 --
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and under-writ,
Here may you see the tyrant.
Macb.
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last: Before my body
I throw my warlike shield 9Q0578: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough7 note
.
[Exeunt, fighting. Alarums.
8 noteRe-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,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Mal.
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Rosse.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only liv'd but 'till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
-- 609 --
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he dy'd.
Siw.
Then he is dead?
Rosse.
Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Siw.
Had he his hurts before?
Rosse.
Ay, on the front.
Siw.
Why then, God's soldier be he!
9 note
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.
Mal.
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.
Siw.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
And so, God be with him!—Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.
Macd.
Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold, where stands
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with 1 note
thy kingdom's pearl,
-- 610 --
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,—
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.
Hail, king of Scotland!
[Flourish.
Mal.
We shall not spend a large expence of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
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 us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
