Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.

Mach.

[Descends.

That will never be;

Who can impress the forest; bid the tree

Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodements!

good!

Rebellious head, rise never, till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal custom.-Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing; Tell me, (if your art
Can tell so much,) shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?

All.

Seek to know no more.

Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know:-
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?

8

[Hautboys.

1 Witch. Show! 2 Witch. Show! 3 Witch. Show! All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart.

Eight Kings appear, and pass over the Stage in order; the last with a Glass in his Hand; BANQUO following.

Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo;

down!

Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls:-And thy

hair,

Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first:-
A third is like the former :-Filthy hags!

7 Who can impress the forest;] i, e. who can command the forest to serve him like a soldier impressed.

8

what noise-] Noise, in our ancient poets, is often literally synonymous for musick.

Why do you show me this?-A fourth?-Start,

eyes!

What! will the line stretch out to the crack of

doom?9

Another yet?-A seventh ?-I'll see no more:-
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,
Which shows me many more; and some I
see,
That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:1
Horrible sight!-Ay, now, I see, 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo2 smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.-What, is this so?
1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so:-But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?-
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights,3
And show the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antique round:
That this great king may kindly say,

Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Musick. The Witches dance, and vanish Macb. Where are they? Gone?-Let this pernicious hour

Stand aye accursed in the calendar!

Come in, without there!

Len.

Enter LENOX.

What's

your grace's will?

ture.

Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?

9 to the crack of doom?] i. e. the dissolution of naCrack has now a mean signification. It was anciently employed in a more exalted sense.

That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:] This was intended as a compliment to King James the First, who first united the two islands and the three kingdoms under one head; whose house too was said to be descended from Banquo.

2 ·the blood-bolter'd Banquo-] To bolter, in Warwickshire, signifies to daub, dirty, or begrime.

3

cheer we up his sprights,] i. e. spirits.

Len.

Macb. Came they not by you?
Len.

No, my lord.

No, indeed, my lord. Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride; And damn'd, all those that trust them!--I did hear The galloping of horse: Who was❜t came by? Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word,

Macduff is fled to England.

Macb.

Len. Ay, my good lord.

Fled to England?

Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits: The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,

Unless the deed go with it: From this moment,

The very firstlings of my heart shall be

The firstlings of my hand. And even now To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:

The castle of Macduff I will surprise;

Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o'the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool:

4

But no more sights!-Where are these gentlemen? Come, bring me where they are.

SCENE II.

Fife. A Room in Macduff's Castle.

Exeunt.

Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and Rosse.

L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the land?

Rosse. You must have patience, madam.

↑ That trace his line.] i. e. follow, succeed in it.

L. Macd.

He had none:

His flight was madness: When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

Rosse.

You know not,

Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.

L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,

His mansion, and his titles, in a place

From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch:5 for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love;

As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.

Rosse.

My dearest coz',

I pray you, school yourself: But, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o'the season. I dare not speak much fur
ther:

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves;7 when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear;
But float upon a wild and violent sea,
Each way, and move.-I take my

leave of you:

Shall not be long but I'll be here again:

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before.—My pretty cousin, Blessing upon you!

5

natural touch:] Natural sensibility. He is not touched with natural affection. JOHNSON.

6 The fits o'the season.] What is most fitting to be done in every conjuncture.

- when we are traitors,

And do not know ourselves;] When we are considered by the state as traitors, while at the same time we are unconscious of guilt; when we appear to others so different from what we really are, that we secm not to know ourselves.

8

·when we hold rumour -] i. e. believe rumour.

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. Rosse. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:

leave at once.

I take my
[Exit Rosse.
L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead;

And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother.

L. Macd.

What, with worms and flies? Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. L. Macd. Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net, nor lime,

The pit-fall, nor the gin.

Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.

My father is not dead, for all your saying.

L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?

T

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband?

L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any

market.

Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.

L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet i'faith,

With wit enough for thee.

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
L. Macd. Ay, that he was.

Son. What is a traitor?

L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
Son. And be all traitors, that do so?

L. Macd. Every one that does so, is a traitor,

and must be hanged.

Son. And must they all be hanged, that swear and

lie?

L. Macd. Every one.

Son. Who must hang them?

L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for

VOL. IV.

M