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And take a bond of fate : thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear, it lies,
And sleep in spight of thunder.-What is this,

[Thunder.

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3d Apparition, a Child crowned, with a Tree in his Hand.
That rises like the issue of a king;
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty?

AU. Listen, bút speak not to't.

App. Be lion-inettled, 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.
Mac, That will never be;
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet bodements ! good!
Rebellious 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.

Mac. I will be satisfy'd: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! let me know :
Why sinks that cauldron ? and what noise is this?

[Hautboys.

1 Witch,

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120

i Witch, Shew !
2 Witch. Shew!
3 Witch. Shew!

All. Shew his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart.

[ A shew of eight Kings, and BANQUO; the last

with a Glass'in his Hand. Mac. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down! Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls:-And thy air, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first :A third is like the former :-Filthy hags : Why do you shew me this? --A fourth ?-Start, eyes! What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?

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Another yet 1-A seventh ? --I'll see no more :-
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,
Which shews me many more : and some I see,
That twofold 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.--What? is this so?

1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so :-But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly!
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights,
And shew the best of our delights;
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antique round :
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Musick. (The Witches dance and vanish.

Mac.

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Mac. Where are they? Gone !--Let this pernicious

hour Stand aye

accursed in the calendar! Come in, without there!

Enter Lenox.

Len. What's your grace's will ?
Mac. Saw you the weird sisters ?

150
Len. No, my lord.
Mac. Came they not by you ?
Len. No, indeed, my lord.

Mac. 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.

Mac. Fled to England ?
Len. Ay, my good lord.

160
Mac. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :
The flighty purpose never is o'er-took,
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 o' 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: 171 But no more sights !--Where are these gentlemen ? Come, bring me where they are.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

: 180

Enter Macduff's Wife, her Son, and Rosse. L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fy the

land?
Rosse. You must have patience, madam.

L. Macd. He had none :
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us' traitors.

Rosse. You know not,
Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
L. Macd. Wisdom ! to leave his wife, to leave his

babes,
His mansion, and his titles, in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch : for the poor wrent,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
Rosse. My dearest coz',

190 I pray you, school yourself : but, for

your

husband He is noble, wise, judicious, and best know The fits o'the season. I dare not speak much further :

Gij

But

201

and your

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear;
But float upon a wild and violent sea,
Each way, and move.-I take my leave of you :
Shall not be long but I'll be here again :
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before.--My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you !

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

Rosse. I.am so much a fool, should I stay longer, It would be my disgrace,

discomfort : I take my leave at once.

[Exit Rosse.
L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother,
L. Macd. What, wit worms and Ates ?
Son. With what I get. I mean; and so do they.
Ļ. Macd. Poor bird ! thou'dst never fear the net nor

lime,
The pit-fall, nor the gin.
Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are

not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a

father? Son: Nay, how will you do for a husband ? L.. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any

market. Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again,

1, Macd.

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