Plays and Poems

To this dead man than you shall see me pay.
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.
Come therefore, and to Thassos send his body:
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come :
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on:
"Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight. Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another Part of the Field.

Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both Armies; then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and Others. Bru. Yet, countrymen, O! yet hold up your heads.

Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field:
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus.

Exit.

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Cli. Fly, fly, my lord! there is no tarrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you; and you; and you,
Volumnius.

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
My heart doth joy that yet in all my life
I found no man but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day,
More than Octavius and Mark Antony
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history.
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would
rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
Alarum. Cry within, Fly, Ay, Ay!'
Cli. Fly, my lord, fly!
Bru.

Hence! I will follow.
Exeunt CLITUS, DARDANIUS, end
VOLUMNIUS

I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord.
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it:
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato!
Stra. Give me your hand first: fare you well.
my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato. Cæsar, now be still:

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
He runs on his sword, and dies
Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY,
MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and their Army.
Oct. What man is that?
Mes. My master's man.

master?

Strato, where is thy

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in,
Messala ;

The conquerors can but make a fire of him ;
For Brutus only overcame himself,
And no man else hath honour by his death.
Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank
thee, Brutus,

That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.
Oct. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain
them.

Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Oct. Do so, good Messala.

Mes. How died my master, Strato?

Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.

Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators save only he

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He only, in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world. This was a man!"
Oct. According to his virtue let us use him,
With all respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.
So call the field to rest; and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day. Exeunt.

The multiplying villanies of nature

Do swarm upon him, from the western isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all 's too weak;
For brave Macbeth, well he deserves that name,
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,

Like valour's minion carv'd out his passage
Till he fac'd the slave;

Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,

Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,

And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Ser. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to

come

Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark:

No sooner justice had with valour arm'd
Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their
heels,

But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage,
With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men
Began a fresh assault.

Dun.

Dismay'd not this

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Ser.

Yes;

As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks;
So they

Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell

But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive

Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present
death,

And with his former title greet Macbeth.
Ross. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath
won.
Excunt.

SCENE III.-A Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

First Witch. Where hast thou been, sister!
Second Witch. Killing swine.

Third Witch. Sister, where thou?

First Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,

And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd: ‘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.

Second Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

First Witch. Thou 'rt kind.

Third Witch. And I another.

First 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:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid.
Weary se'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.

Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy Look what I have.
wounds;

Second Witch. Show me, show me.
First Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.

Third 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,
And thrice again, to make up nine.
Peace! the charm's wound up.

Enter MACBETH and BANQUo.
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Bun. How far is 't call'd to Forres? What
are these,

So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
That look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth.
And yet are on 't? Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to under-

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
Witches vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they
vanish'd?

you.

Macb. Into the air, and what seem'd corporal melted

As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about?

In borrow'd robes ?
Ang.

110

Who was the thane lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
combin'd

With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb. Aside. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind. To Ross and ANGUS.
Thanks for your pains.

To BANQUO. Do you not hope your children shall be kings,

When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to

Promis'd no less to them?

Ban.
That, trusted home, 120
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's
In deepest consequence.
Cousins, a word, I pray you.

Macb. Aside.

130

Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen. Aside. This supernatural soliciting 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: If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings; My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man that function Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who's But what is not. here? Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. Macb. Aside. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,

Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban.

You shall be king. Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?

Enter Ross and ANGUS.

Without my stir.

Ban.

141

New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould

Ross. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success; and when he reads 90
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend
Which should be thine or his. Silenc'd with But with the aid of use.
that,

In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
Came post with post, and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.

100

SCENE IV.-Forres. A Room in the Palace. Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants.

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd?

Mal. My liege, They are not yet come back; but I have spoke With one that saw him die; who did report That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, Implor'd your highness' pardon and set forth A deep repentance. Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd As 'twere a careless trifle.

Enter MACBETH, BANQUỎ, Ross, and ANGUS. O worthiest cousin! 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 deserv'd,

That the proportion both of thanks and pay

ment

Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay. 21
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.
Dun.

Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.

Ban.

The harvest is your own.

Dun.

There if I grow,

My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must
Not unaccompanied invest him only,

But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you:

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my leave.
Dun.
My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. Aside. The Prince of Cumberland!
That is a step

On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

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 thenselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles ! stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me Thane of Cawdor'; bg 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 greating, by being ignorant of what greatness is pro ness, that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoinmised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.

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