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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.
This is the sergeant,
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.
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,
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
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.
The worthy thane of Rosse. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look,
That seems to speak things strange.
God save the king!
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Rosse. That now
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
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
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.
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 will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
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.
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,
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
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
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.