Len. What a haste looks through his eyes? So should he look, That seems to speak things strange. Rosse. God save the king! King. 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, The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict: Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, King. Great happiness! Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norway's king, craves composition; 'Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' inch, 70 80 King. 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. King. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. [Exeunt. SCENE 1 Witch. Where hast thou been sister? Witch. Killing swine. 3 Witch. Sister, where thou? 00 1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht :-Give me, quoth I. Aroint thee, Witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tyger: 2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind. 3 Witch. And I another. 1 Witch. I myself have all the other; And the very points they blow, All the quarters that they know I will drain him dry as hay: 100 Yet it shall be tempest-tost. Look what I have. 2 Witch. Shew me, shew 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 weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about; Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, [Drum within. Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. Mac. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. 120 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 130 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, That you are so. Mac. Speak, if you can ;-what are you? Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! 2 Witch. 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. 140 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 shew? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not: And say, which grain will grow, and which will not ; 1 Witch. Hail! 2 Witch. Hail! 3 Witch. Hall! 1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 150 3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo ! 159 1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence Upon Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetick greeting?-Speak, I charge [Witches vanish. you. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, 169 And these are of them :-Whither are they vanish'd ? Mac. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid! Mac. Your children shall be kings. Ban. You shall be king. Mac. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? Ban. To the self-same tune, and words. here? Enter RossE and ANGUS. Who's Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, 180 Which should be thine, or his : Silenc'd with that, 190 Ang. |