Who comes here?
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, lapp'd 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:-
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at St. 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
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 chestnuts 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 pent-house lid:
He shall live a man forbid:"
Weary seven-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.
Shakspeare means Mars.
Avaunt, begone. • Compass.
[Drum within.
Defended by armor of proof. A scurvy woman fed on offals. • Accursed.
3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come.
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 Forres?-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
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, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
Of noble having, and of royal hope,
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
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 favors, 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
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 prophetic greeting?-Speak, I charge [Witches ranish. 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,
Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who's here?
Enter Rosse and ANGUS.
Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his: Silenced with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,'
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Ang.
We are sent,
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.
Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honor,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
What, can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you
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SCENE IV.-Forres. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are no.
Those in commission yet return'd?
Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report,
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Who was the thane, lives yet; As one that had been studied in his death,
Became him, like the leaving it; he died
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,'
As 'twere a careless trifle.
Ang.
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
Combined with Norway; or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.
Macb.
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?
Ban.
That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.—
Cousins, a word, I pray you.
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.-O worthiest cousin!
Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me; Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macb. The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing every thing, Two truths are told, Safe toward your love and honor. As happy prologues to the swelling act Dun.
Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.— | I have begun to plant thee, and will labor
This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise: and nothing is,
But what is not.
Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance
To make thee full of growing.-Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban.
The harvest is your own.
Dun.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.-Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The prince of Cumberland: which honor must
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.
Macb. The rest is labor, which is not used for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
Macb. The prince of Cumberland!-That is a
step,
[Aside.
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires:
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's
Castle.
Enter Lady MACBETH, reading a letter. Lady M. They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves-air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all hailed me, Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with, Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promis'd:-Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way: Thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou'dst have, great
Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical' aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.-What is your tidings?
Enter an Attendant.
Attend. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M.
Thou'rt mad to say it :
Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.
And when goes hence?
Macb. To-morrow,-as he purposes.
Lady M.
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters:-To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent
flower,
But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.
Lady M.
To alter favor ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.
SCENE VI.-Before the Castle. Hautboys. Servants of Macbeth attending. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants. Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. Ban. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, buttress, Nor coigne of vantage,' but this bird hath made His pendent bed, and procreant cradle: Where they Most breed and haunt, I have observ'd the air Is delicate.
See, see! our honor'd hostess! The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble,
Attend. So please you, it is true; our thane is Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you,
One of my fellows had the speed of him;
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his message.
Lady M.
Give him tending,
He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse,
[Exit Attendant.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;"
That no compunctious visitings of nature
2 Full as valiant as described.
3 Messengers.
• Supernatural. • Pity.
How you shall bid God yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.
In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honors deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house: For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We rest your hermits.
Where's the thane of Cawdor? We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us: Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest to-night.
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
Lady M.
What beast was it then
Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then That made you break this enterprise to me?
It were done quickly: If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place,
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from its boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you
Have done to this.
Macb.
Lady M.
We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him,) his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassel' so convince,
That memory, the warder" of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only: When in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie, as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other.-How now, what news?
His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?1
Bring forth men-children only! For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be received,"
Lady M. He has almost supp'd: Why have you When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?
Lady M.
Know you not, he has?
Mach. We will proceed no further in this business:
He hath honor'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers,
That they have done't?
Lady M.
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar
Upon his death?
I am settled, and bend up
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Not cast aside so soon.
Lady M.
Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt.
Ban. Hold, take my sword:-There's husbandry in heaven,
SCENE I-Court within Macbeth's Castle. Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a Servant with Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. a torch before them.
Ban. How goes the night, boy?
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: Merciful powers!
Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: | What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:He hath been in unusual pleasure, and Sent forth great largess to your offices: This diamond he greets your wife withal,
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
In measureless content.
Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd
their possets,
That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.
Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho!
Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awaked,
And 'tis not done:-the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us:- Hark! I laid their daggers
ready,
He could not miss them.-Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done't.—My husband?
Enter MACBETH.
Macb. I have done the deed:-Didst thou not
hear a noise?
Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
[Exit BANQUO and FLEANCE.
Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you.
Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch
thee:-
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade, and dudgeon,' gouts of blood,
Which was not so before.-There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.Thou sure and firm-set
earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it.-Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
[A bell rings.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.
SCENE II.-The same.
Enter Lady MACBETH.
Macbeth doth murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast;-
Lady M. What do you mean?
Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house:
Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!
Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why,
worthy thane,
[Exit. You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brainsickly of things:-Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.-
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, They must lie there; Go, carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.
Macb.
I'll go no more: Sleave is unwrought silk.
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