The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare

282

Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are cleped
All by the name of dogs: the valued file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift, which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,

And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it,
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off,
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.

2 Mur. I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless, what
I do, to spite the world.

1 Mur. And I another,

So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it, or be rid on't.

Macb. Both of you

Know, Banquo was your enemy.

2 Mur. True, my lord.

Macb. So is he mine, and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
Against my near'st of life. And though I could
With bare-fac'd power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it; yet I must not,
For certain friends, that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Whom I myself struck down. And thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye,
For sundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur. Weshall, my lord,

Perform what you command us.

1 Mur. Though our lives

With them, they think on? Things without remedy,
Should be without regard: what's done, is done.
Macb. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it;
She'll close, and be herself, whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let

The frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep

In the affliction of these terrible dreams,
That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, -
Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In restless ecstacy. Duncan is in his grave:
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well:
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further!

Lady M. Come on,

Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks:
Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night!
Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you!
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue!
Unsafe the while, that we

Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.

Lady M. You must leave this.

Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, live.
Lady M. But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
Macb. There's comfort yet: they are assailable.
Then be thou jocund! Lre the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight, ere, to black Hecate's summons,
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,
Hathrung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

Lady M. What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed! Come, sealing night,

Mach. Your spirits shine through you. Within this Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,

hour, at most,

I will advise you, where to plant yourselves,
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'the time,
The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
And something from the palace; always thought,
That I require a clearness: and with him,
(To leave no rubs, nor botches, in the work,)
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me,
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;
I'll come to you anon.

2 Mur. We are resolv'd,

my l

ylord.

Macb. I'll call upon you straight; abide within! It is concluded:-Banquo, thy soul's flight,

If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. Another room.

Enter Lady MACBETH and a Servant.

Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court?
Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
For a few words.

Serv. Madam, I will.

Lady M. Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content: 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,

Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.

Enter MACBETH.

How now, my lord? why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making?

[Exit.

And, with thy bloody and invisible hand,
Cancel, and tear to pieces that great bond,
Which keeps me pale!-Light thickens, and the crow
Makes wing to the rooky wood:

Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still!
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill :
[Exeunt.
So pr'ythee, go with me!

To the direction just.

1 Mur. Then stand with us!

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,

To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The subject of our watch.

3 Mur. Hark! I hear horses.

Ban. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho!
2 Mur. Then it is he; the rest,
That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i'the court.

1 Mur. His horses go about.

3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate

Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died Make it their walk,

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, a Servant with a torch | Who may I rather challenge for unkindness,

preceding them.

2 Mur. Alight, a light!

8 Mur. 'Tis he.

SCENF IV. - A room of state in the palace. A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, Lady MACBETH, ROSSE, LENOX, Lords, and Attendants. Macb. You know your own degrees, sit down! at first And last, the hearty welcome!

Lords. Thanks to your majesty.

Macb. Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.

Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.

Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks, they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer, to the door.

Than pity for mischance!

Rosse. His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here's a place reserv'd, sir.
Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my lord. What is't, that moves your highness?

Macb. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my goodlord?

Macb. Thou canst not say, I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me!

Rosse. Gentlemen, rise! his highness is not well. Lady M. Sit, worthy friends!-my lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth: 'pray you, keep seat! The fit is momentary; upon a thought He will again be well. If much you note him, You will offend him, and extend his passion. Feed, and regard him not !— Are you a man? Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that, Which might appal the devil.

Lady M. O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts,
(Impostors to true fear), would well become
A woman's story, at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!

Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' Why do you make such faces? When all's done,

thanks.

Both sides are even. Here I'll sit i'the midst.
Be large in mirth! anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.-There's blood upon thy face.
Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then.

Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than he within.
Is he dispatch'd?

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Macb. Thou art the best o'the cut-throats: yet he's good,

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Thou art the nonpareil.

Mur. Most royal sir,

Fleance is 'scap'd.

You look but on a stool.

Macb. Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too!-
If charnel-houses and our graves must send
Those, that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites. [Ghost disappears.
Mach. If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady M. What! quite unmann'd in folly?

Lady M. Fye, for shame!

Macb.Blood hath been shed ere now,i'the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;

Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,

Macb Then comes my fit again. I had else been per- That, when the brains were out, the man would die,

fect:

And health on both!

Len. May it please your highness sit?

And there an end: but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange,
Than such a murder is.

Lady M. My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.
Mach. I do forget.

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends!

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those, that know me.Come, love and health to all! Then I'll sit down. - Give me some wine, fill full!drink to the general joy of the whole table,

Ghost rises.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss.
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.

Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes,

Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M. Think of this, good peers,

[The ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Muc-But as a thing of custom! 'tis no other;

Macb. What man dare, I dare.
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,

284

The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape, but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble. Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword!
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl! Hence, horrible shadow!

[Ghost disappears. Unreal mockery, hence!- Why, so: being gone, I am a man again. - Pray you, sit still. Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

Mach. Can such things be,

And overcome us, like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition, that I owe,

When now I think, you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse. What sights, my lord?

Song. [Within.] Come away, come away, etc.

SCEN

1 Witch. Come, let's make haste! she'll soon be back again.

[Exeunt.

Lady M. I pray you, speak not! he grows worse and Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see,

worse;

Question enrages him: at once, good night!

Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once!

Len. Good night, and better health
Attend his majesty!

Lady M. A kind good night to all!

[Exeunt Lords and Attendants. Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood.

Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, and understood relations have

By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood.- What is the night? Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his

person,

At our great bidding?

Lady M. Did you send to him, sir?

Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(Betimes I will,) unto the weird sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good
All causes shall give way; I am in blood
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand:
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.
Lady M. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Macb. Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-

abuse

SCENE V. The heath.
Thunder. Enter HECATE, meeting the three Witches.
1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
Hec. Have I not reason, beldams, as you are,
Saucy, and overbold? How did
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles, and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all, you have done,
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful, and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now! Get you gone,

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

SCENE VI.- Fores. A room in the palace.
Enter LENOx and another Lord.

Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
Which can interpret further: only, I say,
Things have been strangely borne. The gracious Dun-

can

Was pitied of Macbeth: - - marry, he was dead.
And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance kill'd,
For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbain,
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,
That were the slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep?
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive,
To hear the men deny it. So that, I say,
He has borne all things well: and I do think,
That, had he Duncan's sons under his key,
(As, an't please heaven, he shall not, )they should find,
What'twere to kill a father: so should Fleance.
But,peace!-for from broad words,and 'cause he fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?

Lord. The son of Duncan,

From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court, and is receiv'd
Of the most pious Edward with such grace,
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff
Is gone to pray
the holy king, on his aid
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward:
That, by the help of these, (with Him above
To ratify the work,) we may again

Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
Do faithful homage, and receive free honours,
All which we pine for now. And this report
Hath so exasperate the king, that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.

Len. Sent he to Macduff?

Lord. He did and with an absolute, Sir, not I, The cloudy messenger turns me his back,

And hums, as who should say, You'll rue the time, That clogs me with this answer.

Len. And that well might

boiling.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

2 Witch. Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.

3 Witch. Harper cries: 'Tis time, 'tis time.

1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go;

In the poison'd entrails throw!—
Toad, that under coldest stone,
Days and nights hast thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i'the charmed pot!
All. Double, double toil and trouble!
Fire, burn, and, cauldron, bubble.
2 Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake!
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble!
All. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.

3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw, and gulf,
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock, digg'd i'the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew,
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab !
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

All. Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire, burn, and, cauldron, bubble!

2 Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood,

Then the charm is firm and good.

Enter HECATE, and the other three Witches.

Hec. O, well done! I commend your pains;

And every one shall share i'the gains.

And now about the cauldron sing,

Like elves and fairies in a ring,

Enchanting all, that you put in!

SONG.

Black spirits and white,

Red spirits and grey;
Mingle, mingle, mingle,
You that mingle may!

2 Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs,

Something wicked this way comes: —

Open, locks, whoever knocks!

Enter MACBeth.

[Descends.

Macb. Then live, Macduff! What need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted Fear, it lies,

And sleep in spite of thunder.- What is this,

Thunder. An Apparition of a child crowned, with a tree in his hand, rises.

That rises, like the issue of a king,

And wears upon his baby brow the round

And top of sovereignty?

All. Listen, but speak not!

App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care

Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are :

Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until

Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill

Shall come against him.

Macb. That will never be;

Who can impress the forest, bid the tree

[Descends.

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

Macb. How now, you secret, black, and midnight Can tell so much,) shall Banquo's issue ever

hags?

What is't you do?

All. A deed without a name.

Macb. I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me! Though you untie the winds, and let them fight

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?

[Hautboys.

286

1 Witch. Show! 2 Witch. Show! 3 Witch. Show! Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
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!
And thy hair,
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls.
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former: - Filthy hags!
Why do yon show me this?-A fourth?-Start, eyes!
What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
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 sceptres carry;
Horrible sight! Ay, now, I see, 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. - What, is this so?
But why
1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so.
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly ?—
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights,
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.

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

Stand aye accursed in the calendar! —
Come in, without there!

Enter LENOX.

Len. What's your grace's will?

Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?

Len. No, my lord.

Macb. Came they not by you?

Len. 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. Fled to England?
Len. Ay, my good lord.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Fife. Aroom in Macduff's castle. Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and Rosse. L.Maed.What had he done,to make him fly the land? Rosse. You must have patience, madam.

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.

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 further:
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; 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!

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 y
d your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.

L Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you
Son. As birds do, mother

The pit-fall, nor the gin.

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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?

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. Poor prattler! how thou talk'st!
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly.

If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here! hence, with your little ones!
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;

L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his To do worse to you, were fell cruelty,
babes,

His mansion, and his titles, in a place,
From whence himself doth fly? He loves us not,
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,

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