2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
I Witch. Thou art kind,
3 Witch. And I another.

I Witch. I my felf have all the other,
And the very points they blow,
All the quarters that they know,
I'th' fhip-man's card

I will drain him dry as hay;
Sleep fhall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He fhall live a man forbid ;
Weary fev'nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be loft,
Yet it fhall be tempeft-tost.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me.

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

3 Witch. A drum, a drum!

Macbeth doth come!

All. The weird fifters, hand in hand,

Pofters of the fea 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.

SCENE IV.

[Drum within.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers and other
Attendants.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Foris-What are these,

So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire ?

That look not like inhabitants of earth,

And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught

That man may question? you feem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her fkinny lips-You fhould be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That

you are fo.

Macb.

Mach. Speak if you can; what are you?

Emis!

1 Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Gla

[Cawdor!

2 Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of
3 Witch. All-hail, Macbetb! that fhalt be King hereafter.
Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear
Things that do found fo fair? I'th' name of truth,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed [To the Witches.
Which outwardly ye fhew? my noble partner
You greet with prefent 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 feeds of time,

And fay 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!

Witch. Leffer than Macbeth, and greater.
Witch. Not fo happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none; All-hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all-hail!

Macb. Stay, you imperfe&t fpeakers, tell me more;
By Sinel's death I know I'm Thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives,
A profp'rous gentleman; and to be King
Stands not within the profpect of belief,

No more than to be Cazudor, Say from whence
You owe this ftrange intelligence? or why
Upon this blafted heath you ftop our way

With fuch prophetick greeting ?-speak, I charge you. [Witches vanif

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 ftaid!

The father of Macbeth.

Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do speak about? Or have we eaten of the infane root

That takes the reason prisoner?

Mach. Your children fhall be Kings.
Ban. You shall be King.

Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?
Ban. To th' felf-fame tune, and words; but who is here ?
SCENE V. Enter Roffe and Angus.

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccefs; and when he reads
Thy perfonal venture in the rebels fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,

Which fhould be thine or his. Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the reft o'th' felf-fame day,
He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of, what thy felf didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,
Came poft on poft, and every one did bear
Thy praifes in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Ang. We are fent,

To give thee, from our royal mafter, thanks,
Only to herald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee.

Roffe. And for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cardor:
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 drefs me in his borrow'd robes?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet,
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deferves to lofe. Whether he was
Combin'd with Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not:
But treafons capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,
Haye overthrown him.

Macb

Mach. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!

[Afide.

The greateft is behind. Thanks for your pains. [To Angus.

Do you not hope your children shall be Kings,[To Banquo. When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no lefs to them?

Ban. That trufted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Befides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis ftrange :
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The inftruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honeft trifles, to betray us

In deepest confequence.

Coufins, a word I pray you.

Mach. Two truths are told,

[To Roffe and Angus.

[Afide.

As happy prologues to the fwelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen

This fupernatural folliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good

If ill,

Why hath it giv'n me earnest of fuccefs,

Commencing in a truth? I'm Thane of Cawdor.
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whofe horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? prefent feats
Are less than horrible imaginings.

My Thought, whofe murder's yet but fantasy,
Shakes fo my fingle state of man, that Function

Is fmother'd in furmife; and nothing is,

But what is not,

Ran. Look how our partner's rapt!

Mach. If chance will have me King, why chance may

crown me

Without my ftir.

Ban. New honours come upon him

[Afide

Like our ftrange garments cleave not to their mould,

But with the aid of use.

Mach. Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs thro' the roughest day.

[Afid:

Mach.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leifure.

Mach. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought With things forgot. Kind gentlemen, your pains

Are regiftred where every day I turn

The leaf to read them--let us tow'rd the King;

Think upon what hath chanc'd, and at more time, [To Ban. (The interim having weigh'd it,) let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban. Very gladly.

Macb. 'Till then enough: come, friends.

SCENE VI. The Palace.

[Exeunt

Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and Attendants.

King. Is execution done on Cawdor yet?
Are not thofe in commiffion yet return'd?
Mal. My Liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that faw him die, who did report
That very frankly he confefs'd his treasons,
Implor'd your Highness' pardon, and fet forth
A deep repentance; nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it. He dy'd,
As one that had been ftudied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's conftruction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An abs'lute trust.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus,

O my most worthy coufin!

The fin of my ingratitude ev'n now

Was heavy on me. Thou'rt fo far before,
That swifteft wing of recompence is flow,

To overtake thee. Would thou'dft lefs deferv'd,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine: only I've left to fay,
More is thy due, even more than all can pay.

Macb. The fervice and the loyalty I owé,
In doing it, pays it felf, Your Highness part,