Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Mes. Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
Bru. Titinius' face is upward.
Cato.
He is slain.

Bru. O Julius Cæsar, thou art mighty yet!
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails. [Low alarums.
Cato.
Brave Titinius!
Look, whether he have not crown'd dead Cas-
sius!

Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these? The last of all the Romans, fare thee well! It is impossible that ever Rome Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more

tears

To this dead man than you shall see me pay. I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.

100

Come, therefore, and to Thasos send his body:
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on:
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Another part of the field.

Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then BRUTUS, young CATO, LUCILIUS, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!

Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field:

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus! [Exit. Lucil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?

ΙΟ

Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;
And mayst be honour'd, being Cato's son.
First Sold. Yield, or thou diest.
Lucil.
Only I yield to die:
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;
[Offering money.
Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
First Sold. We must not. A noble prisoner!
Sec. Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus
is ta'en.

First Sold. I'll tell the news. Here comes the general.

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.

Vol. What says my lord?
Bru.

Why, this, Volumnius:
The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me
Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields:
I know my hour is come.

Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

20

[Low alarums. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st that we two went to school together:

Even for that our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still.

Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

30

Bru. Farewell to you; and you; and you,

Volumnius.

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato, Countrymen,
My heart doth joy that yet in all my life
I found no man but he was true to me.

I shall have glory by this losing day
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue

Hath almost ended his life's history:

40

For Brutus only overcame himself,

rest, That have but labour'd to attain this hour.

Bru.

Hence! I will follow. [Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato. [Runs on his sword.] Cæsar, now be still: 50

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

[Dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army.

O. What man is that?

Mes. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:

The conquerors can but make a fire of him;

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. Oct. Do so, good Messala.

Mes. Stra. Mes.

How died my master, Strato?

60 T

70

I held the sword, and he did run on it. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. So mix'd in him that Nature might stand His life was gentle, and the elements up And say to all the world 'This was a man!! Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably. So call the field to rest; and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt.

Mal.

Enter Ross.

The worthy thane of Ross.

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look

That seems to speak things strange.

Ross.
God save the king!
Dun. Whence camest thou, worthy thane?
Ross.
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.

50

That now

60

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men
Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's 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.

Ross. I'll see it done.

First 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 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 se'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Looks what I have.

S. Witch. Show me, show me.
Art st Witch.

Here I have a pilot's thumb,

10

20

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 BANQUD.

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

40

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 chappy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.

Mach. Speak, if you can: what are you? First Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!

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

Third Witch. All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!

50

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.

First Witch. Hail! Sec. Witch. Hail! Third Witch. Hail!

60

First Witch. Lesserthan Macbeth, and greater. Sec. Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. Third Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:

So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

First Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me

Ban. To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

Enter Ross and ANGUS.

Ross. The king hath happily received, Macbeth, The news of thy success; and when he reads 90 Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. 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. Ang.

We are sent roo To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight,

Not pay thee.

Ang.
Who was the thane lives yet;
But under heavy judgement bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
combined

With those of 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 proved,
Have overthrown him.

Macb [Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus] Thanks for your pains.

[To Ban.] Do you not hope your children shall be kings,

When those that gave the thane of Cawdor

to me

Promised no less to them?

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.
Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Macb. [Aside] If chance will have me king,
why, chance may crown me,

Without my stir. Ban.

New honours come upon him.

141

Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould

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.
Ban.

Macb. Till then, enough.

SCENE IV. Forres.

Very gladly. Come, friends.

[Exeunt.

The palace.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONAL
BAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?
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,
Implored 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 owed,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

Dun.
There's no art
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built

10

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, Ross, and ANGUS. O worthiest cousin!

Macb.

[Aside] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen. [Aside] This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,

130

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 deserved,

That the proportion both of thanks and pay pent Might have been mine! only I have left to 3, 20 More is thy due than more than all can pay Macb. The service and the loyalty Low