1. W.
Where hast thou been, sister?

2. W.
Killing swine.

3. W.
Sister, where thou?

1. W.
A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap,
And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht; Give me, quoth I:
Aroint thee, witch, the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the tiger:
But in a sive I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2. W.
I'll give thee a wind.

1. W.
Thou'rt kind.

3. W.
And I another.

1. W.
I myself have all the other;

And the very points ^note they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I'the ship-man's card.
I'll drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.

2. W.
Shew me, shew me.

1. W.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreckt, as homeward he did come. [Drum within.

3. W.
A drum, a drum;
Macbeth doth come.

all.
The weird sisters,14Q0491 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. Enter Macbeth, and Banquo, journeying; Soldiers, and Others, at a Distance,

Mac^b.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Ban.
How far is't call'd to Foris? ^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 ought
That man may question? You 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.

Mac^b.
Speak, if you can; What are you?

1. W.
All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!

2. W.
All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!

3. W.
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, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye shew? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, 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. W.
Hail!

2. W.
Hail!

3. W.
Hail!

1. W.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

2. W.
Not so happy, yet much happier.

3. W.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So, all-hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!

1. 2.
Banquo, and Macbeth, all-hail!

Mac^b.
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Sinel's death,14Q0492 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 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?

Mac^b.
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted,
As breath into the wind. 'Would they had stay'd!

Ban.
Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten o' the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?

Mac^b.
Your children shall be kings.

Ban.
You shall be king.

Mac^b.
And thane of Cawdor too; Went it not so?

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

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 wonders14Q0493 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,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks;
Nothing afeard of what thyself did'st make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,
Came post on post ^note; 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 ^note thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.

Ros.
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bad me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.

&clquo;Ban.
&clquo;What, can the devil speak true?&crquo;

Mac^b.
The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do you dress me
In borrow'd ^note 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 ^note; or did ^note 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.

&clquo;Mac^b.
&clquo;Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:&crquo;
&clquo;The greatest is behind.&crquo;—Thanks for your pains.—
&clquo;Do you not hope your children shall be kings,&crquo;
&clquo;When those, that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,&crquo;
&clquo;Promis'd no less to them?&crquo;

&clquo;Ban.
&clquo;That, trusted home,&crquo;
&clquo;Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,&crquo;
&clquo;Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:&crquo;
&clquo;And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,&crquo;
&clquo;The instruments of darkness tell us truths;&crquo;
&clquo;Win us with honest trifles, to betray us&crquo;
&clquo;In deepest consequence.&crquo;—Cousins, a word, I pray you. [talks with Rosse and Angus apart.

&clquo;Mac^b.
&clquo;Two truths are told,&crquo;
&clquo;As happy prologues to the swelling act&crquo;
&clquo;Of the imperial theme.&crquo;—I thank you, gentlemen.—
&clquo;This supernatural solliciting&crquo;

&clquo;Cannot be ill; cannot be good: If ill,&crquo;
&clquo;Why hath it given me earnest of success,&crquo;
&clquo;Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:&crquo;
&clquo;If good, why do I yield to that suggestion&crquo;
&clquo;Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,&crquo;
&clquo;And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,&crquo;
&clquo;Against the use of nature? Present fears14Q0494&crquo;
&clquo;Are less than horrible imaginings:&crquo;
&clquo;My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,&crquo;
&clquo;Shakes so my single state of man, that function&crquo;
&clquo;Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,&crquo;
&clquo;But what is not.&crquo;

Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.

&clquo;Mac^b.
&clquo;If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me&crquo;
&clquo;Without my stir.&crquo;

Ban.
New honours come upon him
Like our strange garments; cleave not to their mold,
But with the aid of use.

&clquo;Mac^b.
&clquo;Come, what come may:&crquo;
&clquo;Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.&crquo;

Ban.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.

Mac^b.
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.—
&clquo;Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time,&crquo;
&clquo;The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak&crquo;
&clquo;Our free hearts each to other.&crquo;

&clquo;Ban.
&clquo;Very gladly.&crquo;

&clquo;Mac^b.
&clquo;'Till then, enough.&crquo;—Come, friends. [Exeunt.

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