A Cavern. In the middle, a boiling Cauldron. |
|
Thunder. Enter the three Witches. |
First Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. |
Sec. Witch. Thrice and once the hedge-pig whin'd. |
Third Witch. Harper cries: 'Tis time, 'tis time. |
First Witch. Round about the cauldron go; |
In the poison'd entrails throw. |
Toad, that under cold 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. |
Sec. 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 howlet'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. |
Third 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. |
Sec. Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, |
Then the charm is firm and good. |
|
Enter HECATE. |
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. [Music and a song, 'Black Spirits,' &c. |
Sec. Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs, |
Something wicked this way comes. |
Open, locks, |
Whoever knocks. |
|
Enter MACBETH. |
Macb. How now, you secret, black, and midnight 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 |
Against the churches; though the yesty waves |
Confound and swallow navigation up; |
Though bladed corn be lodg'd and trees blown down; |
Though castles topple on their warders' heads; |
Though palaces and pyramids do slope |
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure |
Of Nature's germens tumble all together, |
Even till destruction sicken; answer me |
To what I ask you. |
First Witch. Speak. |
Sec. Witch. Demand. |
Third Witch. We'll answer. |
First Witch. Say if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, |
Or from our masters'? |
Macb. Call'em: let me see 'em. |
First Witch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten |
Her nine farrow; grease, that's sweaten |
From the murderer's gibbet throw |
Into the flame. |
All. Come, high or low; |
Thyself and office deftly show. |
Thunder. First Apparition of an armed Head. |
Macb. Tell me, thou unknown power,— |
First Witch. He knows thy thought: |
Hear his speech, but say thou nought. |
First App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; |
Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. [Descends. |
Macb. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution thanks; |
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright. But one word more,— |
First Witch. He will not be commanded: here's another, |
More potent than the first. |
Thunder. Second Apparition, a bloody Child. |
Sec. App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!— |
Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee. |
Sec. App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn |
The power of man, for none of woman born |
Shall harm 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. |
Thunder. Third Apparition, a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand. |
What is this, |
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 to 't. |
Third 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. [Descends. |
Macb. That will never be: |
Who can impress the forest, bid the tree |
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! |
Rebellion's 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 |
Can tell so much,—shall Banquo's issue ever |
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. |
First Witch. Show! |
Sec. Witch. Show! |
Third Witch. Show! |
All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; |
Come like shadows, so depart. |
|
A show of Eight Kings; the last with a glass in his hand: BANQUO'S Ghost following. |
Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down! |
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs: and thy hair, |
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first: |
A third is like the former. Filthy hags! |
Why do you 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! Now, I see, 'tis true; |
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, |
And points at them for his. [Apparitions vanish. |
What! is this so? |
First Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so: but why |
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? |
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, |
And show the best of our delights. |
I'll charm the air to give a sound, |
While you perform your antick round, |
That this great king may kindly say, |
Our duties did his welcome pay. [Music. The Witches dance, and then vanish with HECATE. |
Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour |
Stand aye accursed in the calendar! |
Come in, without there! |
|
Enter LENNOX. |
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 of the sword |
His wife, his babes; and all unfortunate souls |
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; |
This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool: |
But no moresights! Where are these gentlemen? |
Come, bring me where they are. [Exeunt. |
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