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A Heath.


Enter the three Witches.

I Witch.

HERE 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.

3 Witch. And I another.

I Witch. I myself have all the other :

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 :
Weary sev'n-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,

Wrack'd, as hòmeward he did come. [Drum within. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come. 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.


Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Forres ?-What are


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 understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips :-You should be wòmen,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you àre so.


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 hòpe,

That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not:

If you can look into the seeds of time,

Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favours, nor your hate.

I Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail!

I Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 3 Witch. Thou shalt gèt kings, though thou be

none :

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 prosp❜rous 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
[Witches vanish.


Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.-Whither are they vanish'd? Mach. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted

As breath into the wind :-'Would they had stay'd! Ban. Wère such things hère, as we do speak about! Or have we eaten of the insane root,

That takes the reason prisoner?

You shall be king.

Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Mach. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban. To th' selfsame tune, and words. But who
is here?

Enter ROSSE and Others.

Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,

The news of thy success: and when he reads,
His wonders and his praises do contend,

Which should be thine, or his. As thick as hail,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.


We are sent,

To give thee, from our royal master, thanks.

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!

Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives? Why do you dress me

In borrow'd robes?


Who was the thane, lives yet;

But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. For treasons prov'd
Have overthrown him.


Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!

The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.—

[To Angus.

[To Banquo.

Do you not hope your children shall be kings,

When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to thèm ?

That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown :
But oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trìfles, to betray us.

Cousins, a word, I pray.


Two truths are told,

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the impèrial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.

This supernatural soliciting

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's yet but fantasy,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is

But what is not.


Look, how our partner's rapt. Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance

may crown me,

Without my stir.


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; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Macb. Give me your favour :-my dull brain was wrought

With things forgot. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where ev'ry day I turn

The leaf to read them.-Let us tow'rd the king.— Think upon what hath chanc'd: and, at more time, (The interim having weigh'd it), let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.


Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.


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