Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
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 sootht, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks;
So they

Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgothat,

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 surgeons. [Exit Soldier, attended.

Enter Rosse.

Who comes here?

Mal.

The worthy thane of Rosse.

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So

should he look,

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, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom †, lapp'd in prooft,
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 disbursed, 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 death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.

* Mock.

+ Shakspeare means Mars.

Defended by armour of proof.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swiue.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd:

Give me, quoth I:

Aroint thee*, witch! the rump-fed ronyont 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.
1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 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 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.

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..

[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 Fores?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 understand

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? 1 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,

• Prophetick sisters.

Are ye fantastical*, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with persent grace, and great prediction
Of noble having t, 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.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail!

1 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!

1 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 prophetick 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 staid! Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak about?

* Supernatural, spiritual.
+ Estate.

Rapturously affected.