As two spent swimmers, that do cling together, And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Dun. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seemed to And mounched, and mounched, and mounched :"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. 2nd Witch. I'll give thee a wind. 1st Witch. Thou art kind. 3rd Witch. And I another. 1st Witch. I myself have all the other; And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I will drain him dry as hay: 2nd Witch. Shew me, shew me. 1st Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wrecked as homeward he did come. 3rd Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come. [Drum within. 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. Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is 't called to Fores?-What are these, 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, 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? 1st Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! 2nd Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3rd 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 That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not: And say which grain will grow and which will not, The news of thy success: and when he reads Why hath it given me earnest of success, My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Ban. Look how our partner's rapt. 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 deserved; 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 Safe toward your love and honour. I have begun to plant thee, and will labour Dun. My plenteous joys, Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine Macb. The rest is labour which is not used For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! SCENE V.-Inverness. A Room in MACBETH'S Castle. Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter. "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 promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, Art not without ambition; but without The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, 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, Enter an Attendant. Atten. The King comes here to-night. Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so, Atten. So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: One of my fellows had the speed of him; Give him tending; Lady M. He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse [Exit Attendant. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here; And fill me, from the crown to the toe, topfull Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse; That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering mi |