SCENE II.

A CAMP NEAR FORES.

Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, with attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.

Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.
Mal.

This is the sergeant,
Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'Gainst my captivity:-Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Sold. Doubtfully it stood; As two spent swimmers, that do cling together, And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald (Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that, The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him,) from the western isles Of Kernes and Gallowglasses is supplied; And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Show'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak: For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,) Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smok'd with bloody execution,

Like valour's minion,

Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave; And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewel to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chops,

And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflexion
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 sooth, 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 Golgotha,

I cannot tell:

But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds;

Who comes here?

They smack of honour both:-Go, get him sur[Exit Soldier, attended.

geons.

Enter Rosse.

Mal.

The worthy thane of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look,

That seems to speak things strange.

Rosse.

God save the king!
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, lapt 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;-

Dun.

Great happiness!

Rosse. That now

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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A HEATH.

Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swine.

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 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.

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 penthouse 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-tost.

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 wierd 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.

Mac. 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.

Mac.

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.