And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles Like valor's minion, Carved out his passage, till he faced the slave; Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Compelled these skipping Kernes to trust their heels, With furbished arms, and new supplies of men, Dun. Dismayed not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Yes; 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 They smack of honor both.-Go, get him surgeons. Who comes here? Mal. [Exit Soldier, attended. Enter ROSSE. 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! From Fife, great king, Dun. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane? Norway himself, with terrible numbers, The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict; Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, Dun. Rosse. That now Great happiness! Sweno, the Norway's king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men, Ten thousand dollars to our general use. Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest.-Go, pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth. Rosse. I'll see it done. Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. A Heath. Thunder. SCENE III. A Heath. Enter the three Witches. 1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister? 2 Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sister, where thou? [Exeunt. 1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounched, and mounched, and mounched. quoth I; Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Give me, Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger; 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; 2 Witch. Show me, show me. 1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wrecked, as homeward he did come. 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, Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. [Drum within. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. So withered, 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, Upon her skinny lips.- You should be women, 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 That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not. And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear, 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 prophetic greeting?-Speak, I charge you. [Witches vanish. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.-Whither are they vanished? Macb. Into the air; and what seemed corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid! Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak about? Or have we eaten of the insane root, That takes the reason prisoner? You shall be king. Macb. Your children shall be kings. Enter ROSSE and ANGUS. Rosse. The king hath happily received, Macbeth, Which should be thine, or his: Silenced with that, We are sent, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honor, Ban. What, can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me In borrowed robes? Ang. Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined With hidden help and vantage; or that with both Macb. Ban. Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tiş strange! Cousins, a word, I pray you. Macb. Two truths are told As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.- 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. My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, |