Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to

come,

Discomfort swells. 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 furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.

Dun.

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

Yes;

As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were

As cannons overcharged with double cracks ;
So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorise another Golgotha,

I cannot tell :

But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy

wounds;

They smack of honour both.-Go, get him [Exit Soldier, attended.

surgeons.

Who comes here?

Mal.

Enter ROSSE.

The worthy thane of Rosse.

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes ! So should he look that seems to speak strange things.

Rosse. God save the king!

Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?

Rosse. From Fife, great king,

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

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

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

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

Dun.

Rosse. That now

Great happiness!

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursèd, at Saint Colmes' inch,
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.

Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath

won.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-A Heath. Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

I Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

I Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her

lap,

And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd: -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 sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
I Witch. Thou'rt kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

I Witch. I myself have all the other;
And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know
I'the shipman'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 seven-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.

I Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum : Macbeth doth come.

[Drum within.

All. The weird sisters, 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.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Forres?-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? You seem to under-
stand 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.

Macb. Speak, if you can ;-what are you? I Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis !

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

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,

Are ye fantastical, 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 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.

I Witch. Hail!

2 Witch.

3 Witch.

Hail!

Hail!

I 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!

I Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me

more:

By 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
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting ?-Speak, I charge
[Witches vanish.

you.

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 stay'd!

Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about?

Or have we eaten on 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 ?