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Charles Kean [1853], Shakespeare's tragedy of Macbeth, with Locke's music; arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, with historical and explanatory notes, by Charles Kean. As first performed on Monday, February 14th, 1853 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S35900].
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ACT I. SCENE I. —AN OPEN PLACE. A MIST. THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. Three Witches discovered.

1st. Witch.
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2nd Witch.
When the hurlyburly's1 note



done,
When the battle's lost and won:

3rd Witch.
That will be ere set of sun.

1st Witch.
Where the place?

2nd Witch.
Upon the heath:

3rd Witch.
There to meet with Macbeth.

1st Witch.
I come, Graymalkin!2 note

All.
Paddock3 note

calls:—Anon.—
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air. [Witches vanish.

-- 12 --

SCENE II. —CAMP NEAR FORES. SITE OF SWENO'S PILLAR. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, with Attendants, L., meeting a bleeding Soldier, R.

Dun.
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.

Mal.
This is the sergeant,
Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'Gainst my captivity:—Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Sol.
Doubtfully it stood,
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald1 note
From the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses2 note











is supplied;

-- 13 --


And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion,
Carv'd out his passage till he fac'd the slave;
And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun.
O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!

Sol.
Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd,
Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels;
But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,
With surbish'd arms, and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.

Dun.
Dismay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

Sol.
Yes;
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun.
So wel! thy words become thee, as thy wounds;
They smack of honour both:—Go, get him surgeons. [The Soldier is supported off, L.
Who comes here?

Mal.
The worthy Thane3 note of Rosse.

Len.
What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look,
That comes to speak things strange.

-- 14 --

Enter Rosse, R.

Ros.
God save the king!

Dun.
Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?

Ros.
From Fife, great king,
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.
Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The Thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom,4 note lapt in proof,5 note
Confronted him with self-comparisons.
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: And, to conclude,
The victory fell on us;—

Dun.
Great happiness!

Ros.
That now
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch,(A)8Q0161
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

Dun.
No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest:—Go, pronounce his present death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Ros.
I'll see it done.

Dun.
What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
[Exeunt Duncan and Nobles, L., Rosse, Angus, and two others, R. SCENE III. —A HEATH. THUNDER. Enter the Three Witches, R. and L.

1st Witch.
Where hast thou been, sister?

2nd Witch.
Killing swine.

3rd Witch.
Sister, where thou?

1st Witch.
A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap,

-- 15 --


And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd:—
  ‘Give me,’ quoth I:
‘Aroint thee, witch!’1 notethe rump-fed ronyon2 note cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,3 note



And, like a rat without a tail,4 note


I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2nd Witch.
I'll give thee a wind.

1st Witch.
Thou art kind.

3rd Witch.
And I another.

1st Witch.
I myself have all the other;
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card5 note “to show.”6 note
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid:7 note

-- 16 --


Weary sev'n-nights nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:8 note








Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2nd Witch.
Show me, show me.

1st Witch.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
(Drum within)

3rd Witch.
A drum, a drum;
Macbeth doth come.

All. (they join hands, and go round whilst speaking)
The weird sisters,9 note hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
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.

Macbeth. (without)
Command they make a halt upon the heath.

Voices. (without)
Halt,—halt,—halt!

-- 17 --

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, L. U. E.

Macbeth.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Ban.
How far is't call'd to Fores?—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
That man may question? Yo seem to understand me.
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips:—You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.

Macbeth.
Speak, if you can;—What are you?

1st Witch.
All hail,10 note Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

2nd Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

3rd 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,
Are ye fantastical,11 note or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,
That he seems wrapt 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.

1st Witch.
Hail!

2nd Witch.
Hail!

3rd Witch.
Hail!

1st Witch.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

2nd Witch.
Not so happy, yet much happier.

-- 18 --

3rd Witch.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.

Witches.
So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail!

Macbeth.
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Sinel's death,12 note 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
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish.(B)8Q0162

Ban.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them;—Whither are they vanish'd?

Macbeth.
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 eaten of the insane root,13 note
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macbeth.
Your children shall be kings.

Ban.
You shall be a king.

Macbeth.
And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?

Ban.
To the self-same tune, and words. Who's here?
Enter Rosse and Angus, R.

Ros.
The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his: Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,

-- 19 --


He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,14 note
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;
To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.

Ros.
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. (aside, L.)
What, can the devil speak true?

Macbeth.
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
Combin'd 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.

Macbeth.
Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind. (aside) Thanks for your pains.—
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promised no less to them?

Ban.
That, thrusted home,
Might 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.
[retiring with them.

Macbeth.
Two truths are told,

-- 20 --


As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.—
This supernatural soliciting15 note
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;
If good, 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 fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,
But what is not.16 note

Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.

Macbeth.
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.

Macbeth.
Come what come may;
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Ban.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.

Macbeth.
Give me your favour:—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 chanced; and, at more time,
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.
(aside to Banquo)

Ban.
Very gladly.

Macbeth.
Till then, enough. Come, friends.
Exeunt, R.

-- 21 --

SCENE IV. —INTERIOR OF THE PALACE AT FORES. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and Attendants, L.

Dun.
Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet returned?

Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With 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 died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.(C)8Q0163

Dun.
There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust. O worthiest cousin! Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus R.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been more! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.

Macbeth.
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;
Which do but what they should, by doing everything
Safe toward your love and honour.

Dun.
Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour

-- 22 --


To make thee full of growing.1 note Noble Banquo,
Thou 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.

Dun.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. 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:(D)8Q0164 which honour must
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.

Macbeth.
The rest is labour, which is not used for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.

Dun.
My worthy Cawdor!

Macbeth.
The Prince of Cumberland! 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, R.

Dun.
True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant note
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.
[Exeunt, R.

-- 23 --

SCENE V. —A ROOM IN MACBETH'S CASTLE AT INVERNESS. Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter, R.

Lady M.

“They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves—air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all hailed me, ‘Thane of Cawdor;’ by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with ‘Hail, king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lady it to thy heart, and farewell.”


Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis'd.—Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' 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: thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical1 note aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal. What is your tidings? Enter Seyton, L.

Sey.
The King comes here to night.

-- 24 --

Lady M.
Thou'rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Sey.
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 M.
Give him tending,
He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse, [Exit Seyton, L.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits
That tend on mortal2 note thoughts, 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;3 note
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect, and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blankness4 note of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold!—Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! Enter Macbeth, L.
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present,5 note and I feel now
The future in the instant.

-- 25 --

Macbeth.
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.

Lady M.
And when goes hence?

Macbeth.
To-morrow,—as he purposes.

Lady M.
O, never
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters:—To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

Macbeth.
We will speak further.

Lady M.
Only look up clear:
To alter favour6 note ever is to fear;
Leave all the rest to me.
[Exeunt, R. SCENE VI. —EXTERIOR OF THE CASTLE. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants, L. U. E.

Dun.
This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

Ban.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here; no jutty frieze, buttress,
Nor coigne of vantage,1 note but this bird hath made
His pendent bed, and procreant cradle: Where they
Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd the air
Is delicate.

-- 26 --

Enter Lady Macbeth, Seyton, and Ladies, from R. U. E.

Dun.
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
How you shall bid Heaven yield us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.

Lady M.
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, wherewitl
Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We rest your hermits.2 note

Dun.
Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor:3 note but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
We are you guest to-night.

Lady M.
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.

Dun.
Give me your hand:
Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.
[March heard. Exeunt, R. U. E.

-- 27 --

SCENE VII. —A ROOM IN MACBETH'S CASTLE, AT INVERNESS. Enter Macbeth, R.

Macbeth.
If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: if the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We'd jump the life to come.—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 justice
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
Hath borne his faculties so meek,1 note hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,2 note
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other—How now! what news?

-- 28 --

Enter Lady Macbeth, R.

Lady M.
He has almost supp'd; Why have you left the chamber?

Macbeth.
Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady M.
Know you not, he has?

Macbeth.
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 M.
Was the hope drunk,
Wherein you dress'd 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 afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st 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,
Like the poor cat i' the adage?3 note

Macbeth.
Pr'ythee peace:
I dare do all that may become a man!
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady M.
What boast4 note was it, then,
That made you break this enterprise 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,
Did 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:

-- 29 --


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 so sworn, as you
Have done to this.

Macbeth.
If we should fail,—

Lady M.
We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassail so convince,(E)8Q0165
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A 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 spongy officers,5 note who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?6 note

Macbeth.
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 used their very daggers,
That they have done't?

Lady M.
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?

Macbeth.
I am settled, and bend up
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, R. END OF ACT FIRST.

-- 30 --

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Charles Kean [1853], Shakespeare's tragedy of Macbeth, with Locke's music; arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, with historical and explanatory notes, by Charles Kean. As first performed on Monday, February 14th, 1853 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S35900].
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