Thunder and lightning.
Enter three WITCHES.
First Witch.
When shall we three
meet again?
In thunder,
lightning,
or in rain?
Second Witch.
When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's
lost and won.
Third Witch.
That will be
ere the set of sun.
First Witch.
Where the place?
Second Witch.
Upon the heath.
Third Witch.
There to meet with Macbeth.
First Witch.
I come,
Graymalkin.
Second Witch.
Paddock calls.
All.
Fair is foul,
and foul is fair.
Hover through the fog
and filthy air.
[Exeunt.]
King.
What bloody man is that?
He can report,
As seemeth by his plight,
of the revolt
The newest state.
Malcolm.
This is the sergeant
Who like a good
and hardy soldier
fought 'Gainst my captivity.
Hail,
brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge
of the broil
As thou didst leave it.
Captain.
Doubtful it stood,
As two spent swimmers,
that do cling together
And choke their art.
The merciless Macdonwald
-- Worthy to be a rebel
for to that
The multiplying
villainies of nature
Do swarm upon him --
from the Western Isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses
is supplied;
And Fortune,
on his damnèd quarrel smiling,
Showed like
a rebel's whore:
but all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth
-- well he deserves that name --
Disdaining Fortune,
with his brandished steel,
Which smoked
with bloody execution,
Like valor's minion
carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which nev'r shook hands,
nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseamed him
from the nave
to th' chops,
And fixed his head
upon our battlements.
King.
O valiant cousin!
Worthy gentleman!
Captain.
As whence the sun
'gins his reflection
Shipwracking storms
and direful thunders break,
So from that spring
whence comfort
seemed to come
Discomfort swells.
Mark,
King of Scotland,
mark:
No sooner justice had,
with valor armed,
Compelled these skipping kerns
to trust their heels
But the Norweyan lord,
surveying vantage,
With furbished arms
and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.
King.
Dismayed not this
Our captains,
Macbeth and Banquo?
Captain.
Yes;
As sparrows eagles,
or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth,
I must report
they were As cannons
overcharged with double cracks;
So they
doubly redoubled strokes
upon the foe.
Except
they meant to bathe
in recking wounds,
Or memorize
another Golgotha,
I cannot tell
-- But I am faint;
my gashes cry for help.
King.
So well thy words
become thee
as thy wounds;
They smack of honor both.
Go get him surgeons.
[Exit CAPTAIN attended.]
Malcolm.
The worthy Thane of Ross.
Lennox.
What a haste
looks through his eyes!
So should he look
That seems to
speak things strange.
King.
Whence cam'st thou,
worthy thane?
Ross.
From Fife, great king;
Where the Norweyan banners
flout the sky
And fan our people cold.
Norway himself,
with terrible numbers,
Assisted by
that most disloyal traitor
The Thane of Cawdor,
began a dismal conflict;
Till that Bellona's bridegroom,
lapped in proof,
Confronted him
with self-comparisons,
Point against point,
rebellious arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit:
and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us.
Ross.
That now Sweno,
the Norways' king,
craves composition;
Nor would we deign him
burial of his men
Till he disbursèd,
at Saint Colme's Inch,
Ten thousand dollars
to our general use.
King.
No more
that Thane of Cawdor
shall deceive
Our bosom interest:
go pronounce
his present death,
And with his former title
greet Macbeth.
King.
What he hath lost,
noble Macbeth hath won.
[Exeunt.]
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 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' th' 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.
Th'art 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' th' shipman's card.
I'll drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither
night nor day
Hang upon
his penthouse lid;
He shall live
a man forbid:
Weary sev'nights
nine times nine
Shall he dwindle,
peak,
and pine:
Though his bark
cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tossed.
Look what I have.
Second Witch.
Show me, show me.
First Witch.
Here I have
a pilot's thumb,
Wracked as homeward
he did come.
Third 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,
And thrice again,
to make up nine.
Peace!
The charm's wound up.
[Enter MACBETH and BANQUO.]
Macbeth.
So foul
and fair a day
I have not seen.
Banquo.
How far is't called
to Forres?
What are these
So withered,
and so wild in their attire,
That look not
like th' inhabitants
o' th' 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.
Macbeth.
Speak, if you can:
what are you?
First Witch.
All hail, Macbeth!
Hail to thee,
Thane of Glamis!
Second Witch.
All hail, Macbeth!
Hail to thee,
Thane of Cawdor!
Third Witch.
All hail, Macbeth,
that shalt be king hereafter!
Banquo.
Good sir,
why do you start,
and seem to fear Things
that do sound so fair?
I' th' name of truth,
Are ye fantastical,
or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show?
My noble partner
You greet
with present grace
and great prediction
Of noble having
and of royal hope,
That he seems rapt withal:
to me you speak not.
If you can look
into the seeds of time,
And say
which grain will grow
and which will not,
Speak then to me,
who neither beg nor fear
Your favors
not your hate.
First Witch.
Lesser than Macbeth,
and greater.
Second Witch.
Not so happy,
yet much happier.
Third Witch.
Thou shalt get kings,
though thou be none.
So all hail,
Macbeth and Banquo!
First Witch.
Banquo and Macbeth,
all hail!
Macbeth.
Stay,
you imperfect speakers,
tell me more:
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 you.
Banquo.
The earth
hath bubbles
as the water has,
And these are of them.
Whither are they vanished?
Macbeth.
Into the air,
and what seemed corporal
melted As breath
into the wind.
Would they had stayed!
Banquo.
Were such things here
as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten
on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
Macbeth.
Your children shall be kings.
Banquo.
You shall be king.
Macbeth.
And Thane of Cawdor too.
Went it not so?
Banquo.
To th' selfsame tune
and words.
Who's here?
Ross.
The king
hath happily received,
Macbeth,
The news of thy success;
and when he reads
Thy personal venture
in the rebels' fight,
His wonders
and his praises
do contend
Which should be
thine or his.
Silenced with that,
In viewing o'er the rest
o' th' selfsame day,
He finds thee
in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard
of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death.
As thick as tale
Came post with post,
and every one
did bear Thy praises
in his kingdom's great defense,
And poured them down
before him.
Angus.
We are sent To give thee,
from our royal master,
thanks;
Only to herald thee
into his sight,
Not pay thee.
Ross.
And for an earnest
of a greater honor,
He bade me,
from him,
call thee Thane of Cawdor;
In which addition,
hail,
most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
Banquo.
What,
can the devil speak true?
Macbeth.
The Thane of Cawdor lives:
why do you dress me
In borrowed robes?
Angus.
Who was the thane
lives yet,
But under heavy judgment
bears that life
Which he deserves to lose.
Whether he was combined
With those of Norway,
or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage,
or that with both
He labored
in his country's wrack,
I know not;
But treasons capital,
confessed and proved,
Have overthrown him.
Macbeth
(aside).
Glamis,
and Thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind.
(To ROSS and ANGUS.)
Thanks for your pains.
(Aside to BANQUO.)
Do you not hope
your children
shall be kings,
When those that gave
the Thane of Cawdor to me
Promised no less to them?
Banquo
(aside to MACBETH).
That,
trusted home,
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.
Macbeth
(aside).
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 smothered in surmise,
and nothing is
But what is not.
Banquo.
Look,
how our partner's rapt.
Macbeth
(aside).
If chance
will have me king,
why,
chance may crown me,
Without my stir.
Banquo.
New honors
come upon him,
Like our strange garments,
cleave not to their mold
But with the aid of use.
Macbeth
(aside).
Come what come may,
Time and the hour
runs through
the roughest day.
Banquo.
Worthy Macbeth,
we stay upon your leisure.
Macbeth.
Give me your favor.
My dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten.
Kind gentlemen,
your pains
Are registered
where every day
I turn The leaf
to read them.
Let us toward the king.
(Aside to BANQUO.)
Think upon
what hath chanced,
and at more time,
The interim
having weighed it,
let us speak
Our free hearts
each to other.
Macbeth.
Till then, enough.
Come, friends.
[Exeunt.]
King.
Is execution done
on Cawdor?
Are not
Those in commission
yet returned?
Malcolm.
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 confessed his treasons,
Implored
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 owed
As 'twere
a careless trifle.
King.
There's no art To find
the mind's construction
in the face:
He was a gentleman
on whom I built
An absolute trust.
[Enter MACBETH,
BANQUO,
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 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.
Macbeth.
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 everything
Safe toward your love
and honor.
King.
Welcome hither.
I have begun
to plant thee,
and will labor
To make thee
full of growing.
Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserved,
nor must be known
No less
to have done so,
let me enfold thee
And hold thee
to my heart.
Banquo.
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
King.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fullness,
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 honor
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.
Macbeth.
The rest is labor,
which is not used for you.
I'll be myself
the harbinger,
and make joyful
The hearing of my wife
with your approach;
So,
humbly take my leave.
Macbeth
(aside).
The Prince of Cumberland!
That is a step
On which I must fall down,
or else o'erlcap,
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.
[Exit.]
King.
True,
worthy Banquo;
he is full so valiant,
And in his commendations
I am fed;
It is a banquet to me.
Let's after him,
Whose care is gone before
to bid us welcome.
It is a peerless kinsman.
[Flourish Exeunt.]
Enter Macbeth's wife,
LADY MACBETH,
alone, with a letter.
Lady Macbeth
(reads):
"They met me
in the day of success;
and I have learned
by the perfect'st 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
mightst 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' th' milk
of human kindness
To catch the nearest way.
Thou wouldst be great,
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
Than wishest
should be undone.
Hie thee hither,
That I
may pour my spirits
in thine car,
And chastise
with the valor
of my tongue
All that impedes thee
from the golden round
Which fate
and metaphysical aid
doth seem
To have thee crowned withal.
Messenger.
The king
comes here tonight.
Lady Macbeth.
Thou'rt mad to say it!
Is not thy master with him,
who,
were't so,
Would have informed
for preparation?
Messenger.
So please you,
it is true.
Our thane is coming.
One of my fellows
had the speed of him,
Who,
almost dead for breath,
had scarcely more
Than would make up
his message.
Lady Macbeth.
Give him tending;
He brings great news.
[Exit MESSENGER.]
The raven himself
is hoarse
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,
top-full
Of direst cruelty!
Make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access
and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings
of nature
Shake my fell purpose,
nor keep peace
between Th' effect and it!
Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall,
you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever
in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief!
Come,
thick night,
And pall thee
in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife
see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven
peep through
the blanket of the dark,
To cry
"Hold, hold!"
Great Glamis!
Worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both,
by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters
have transported me
beyond This ignorant present,
and I feel now
The future in the instant.
Macbeth.
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here tonight.
Lady Macbeth.
And when goes hence?
Macbeth.
Tomorrow,
as he purposes.
Lady Macbeth.
O,
never Shall sun
that morrow see!
Your face,
my thane,
is as a book where men
May read strange matters.
To beguile the time,
Look like the time;
bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand,
your tongue:
look like th' innocent flower,
But be the serpent under't.
He that's coming
Must be provided for:
and you shall put
This night's great business
into my dispatch;
Which shall
to all our nights
and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway
and masterdom.
Macbeth.
We will speak further.
Lady Macbeth.
Only look up clear.
To alter favor ever
is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.
[Exeunt.]
King.
This castle
hath a pleasant seat;
the air
Nimbly and sweetly
recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
Banquo.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet,
does approve
By his loved mansionry
that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here.
No jutty,
frieze,
Buttress,
nor coign of vantage,
but this bird
Hath made
his pendent bed
and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed
and haunt,
I have observed
The air is delicate.
King.
See, see,
our honored hostess!
The love
that follows us
sometime is our trouble,
Which still
we thank as love.
Herein I teach you
How you shall bid God
'ield us for your pains
And thank us
for your trouble.
Lady Macbeth.
All our service
In every point twice done,
and then done double,
Were poor
and single business
to contend
Against those honors
deep and broad
wherewith
Your majesty
loads our house:
for those of old,
And the late dignities
heaped up to them,
We rest your hermits.
King.
Where's
the Thane of Cawdor?
We coursed him
at the heels,
and had a purpose
To be his purveyor:
but he rides well,
And his great love,
sharp as his spur,
hath holp him
To his home before us.
Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest tonight.
Lady Macbeth.
Your servants
ever Have theirs,
themselves,
and what is theirs,
in compt,
To make their audit
at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.
King.
Give me your hand.
Conduct me to mine host:
we love him highly,
And shall continue
our graces toward him.
By your leave,
hostess.
[Exeunt.]
Hautboys. Torches.
Enter a SEWER,
and diverse SERVANTS
with dishes and service,
and pass over the stage.
Then enter MACBETH.
Macbeth.
If it were done
when 'tis done,
then 'twere well
It were done quickly.
If th' assassination
Could trammel up
the consequence,
and catch,
With his surcease,
success;
that but this blow
Might be the be-all
and the end-all
-- here,
But here,
upon this bank
and shoal of time,
We'd jump
the life to come.
But in these cases
We still have judgment here;
that we but teach
Bloody instructions,
which, being taught,
return
To plague th' inventor:
this even-handed justice
Commends th' ingredients
of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.
He's here in double trust:
First,
as I am his kinsman
and his subject,
Strong,
both against the deed;
then,
as his host,
Who should
against his murderer
shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself.
Besides,
this Duncan
Hath borne
his faculties so meek,
hath been So clear
in his great office,
that his virtues
Will plead like angels
trumpet-tongued
against
The deep damnation
of his taking-off;
And pity,
like a naked newborn babe,
Striding the blast,
or heaven's cherubin
horsed Upon
the sightless couriers
of the air,
Shall blow
the horrid deed
in every eye,
That tears
shall drown the wind.
I have no spur
To prick the sides
of my intent,
but only
Vaulting ambition,
which o'erleaps itself
And falls on th' other--
Lady Macbeth.
He has almost supped.
Why have you
left the chamber?
Macbeth.
Hath he asked for me?
Lady Macbeth.
Know you not he has?
Macbeth.
We will proceed no further
in this business:
He hath honored me of late,
and I have bought
Golden opinions
from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now
in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
Lady Macbeth.
Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dressed yourself?
Hath it slept since?
And wakes it now,
to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely?
From this time
Such I account thy love.
Art thou afeard
To be the same
in thine own act and valor
As thou art in desire?
Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st
the ornament of life,
And live a coward
in thine own esteem,
Letting "I dare not"
wait upon "I would,"
Like the poor cat i' th' adage?
Macbeth.
Prithee, peace!
I dare do all
that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
Lady Macbeth.
What beast was't then
That made you break
this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it,
then you were a man;
And to be more
than what you were,
you would Be
so much more the man.
Nor time nor place
Did then adhere,
and yet
you would make both.
They have made themselves,
and that their fitness
now Does unmake you.
I have given suck,
and know
How tender 'tis
to love the babe
that milks me:
I would,
while it
was smiling in my face,
Have plucked my nipple
from his boneless gums,
And dashed the brains out,
had I so sworn
as you Have done to this.
Macbeth.
If we should fail?
Lady Macbeth.
We fail?
But screw your courage
to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail.
When Duncan is asleep
-- Whereto the rather
shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him --
his two chamberlains
Will I with wine
and wassail so convince,
That memory,
the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume,
and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only:
when in swinish sleep
Their drenchèd natures
lie as in a death,
What cannot
you and I perform
upon Th' unguarded Duncan,
what not put upon
His spongy officers,
who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?
Macbeth.
Bring forth men-children only;
For thy undaunted mettle
should compose
Nothing but males.
Will it not be received,
When we
have marked with blood
those sleepy two
Of his own chamber,
and used their very daggers,
That they have done't?
Lady Macbeth.
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make
our griefs and clamor
roar Upon his death?
Macbeth.
I am settled,
and bend up
Each corporal agent
to this terrible feat.
Away,
and mock the time
with fairest show:
False face must hide
what the false heart
doth know.
[Exeunt.]
Enter BANQUO,
and FLEANCE,
with a torch before him
(on the way to bed).
Banquo.
How goes the night, boy?
Fleance.
The moon is down;
I have not heard the clock.
Banquo.
And she goes down
at twelve.
Fleance.
I take't,
'tis later, sir.
Banquo.
Hold,
take my sword.
There's husbandry
in heaven.
Their candles are all out.
Take thee that too.
A heavy summons
lies like lead upon me,
And yet
I would not sleep.
Merciful powers,
Restrain in me
the cursed thoughts
that nature
Gives way to in repose!
[Enter MACBETH,
and a SERVANT
with a torch.]
Give me my sword!
Who's there?
Banquo.
What, sir,
not yet at rest?
The king's a-bed:
He hath been
in unusual pleasure,
and Sent forth great largess
to your offices:
This diamond
he greets your wife withal,
By the name
of most kind hostess;
and shut up
In measureless content.
Macbeth.
Being unprepared,
Our will became
the servant to defect,
Which else
should free
have wrought.
Banquo.
All's well.
I dreamt last night
of the three weird sisters:
To you
they have showed
some truth.
Macbeth.
I think not of them.
Yet,
when we can entreat
an hour to serve,
We would spend it
in some words
upon that business,
If you
would grant the time.
Banquo.
At your kind'st leisure.
Macbeth.
If you shall cleave
to my consent,
when 'tis,
It shall make
honor for you.
Banquo.
So I lose none
In seeking to augment it,
but still keep
My bosom franchised
and allegiance clear,
I shall be counseled.
Macbeth.
Good repose the while!
Banquo.
Thanks, sir.
The like to you!
[Exit BANQUO,
with FLEANCE.]
Macbeth.
Go bid thy mistress,
when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell.
Get thee to bed.
[Exit SERVANT.]
Is this a dagger
which I see before me,
The handle
toward my hand?
Come,
let me clutch thee.
I have thee not,
and yet
I see thee still.
Art thou not,
fatal vision,
sensible.
To feeling as to sight,
or art thou but
A dagger of the mind,
a false creation,
Proceeding from
the heat-oppressèd brain?
I see thee yet,
in form as palpable
As this
which now I draw.
Thou marshal'st me
the way that I was going;
And such an instrument
I was to use.
Mine eyes
are made the fools
o' th' other senses,
Or else
worth all the rest.
I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon
gouts of blood,
Which was not so before.
There's no such thing.
It is the bloody business
which informs
Thus to mine eyes.
Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead,
and wicked dreams
abuse
The curtained sleep;
witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings;
and withered murder,
Alarumed by his sentinel,
the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch,
thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's
ravishing strides,
towards his design
Moves like a ghost.
Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps,
which way they walk,
for fear
Thy very stones prate
of my whereabout,
And take
the present horror
from the time,
Which now suits with it.
Whiles I threat,
he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds
too cold breath gives.
I go,
and it is done:
the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan,
for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven,
or to hell.
[Exit].
Lady Macbeth.
That which
hath made them drunk
hath made me bold;
What hath quenched them
hath given me fire.
Hark! Peace!
It was the owl that shrieked,
the fatal bellman,
Which gives
the stern'st good-night.
He is about it.
The doors are open,
and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge
with snores.
I have drugged their possets,
That death and nature
do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.
Macbeth
(within).
Who's there?
What, ho?
Lady Macbeth.
Alack,
I am afraid
they have awaked.
And 'tis not done!
Th' attempt
and not the deed
Confounds us.
Hark!
I laid their daggers ready;
He could not miss 'em.
Had he not resembled
My father as he slept,
I had done't.
Macbeth.
I have done the deed.
Didst thou not
hear a noise?
Lady Macbeth.
I heard the owl scream
and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macbeth.
Hark!
Who lies
i' th' second chamber?
Macbeth.
This is a sorry sight.
Lady Macbeth.
A foolish thought,
to say a sorry sight.
Macbeth.
There's one did laugh
in 's sleep,
and one cried "Murder!"
That they
did wake each other.
I stood and heard them.
But they
did say their prayers,
and addressed them
Again to sleep.
Lady Macbeth.
There are two
lodged together.
Macbeth.
One cried
"God bless us!"
and "Amen" the other,
As they had seen me
with these hangman's hands:
List'ning their fear,
I could not say "Amen,"
When they did say
"God bless us!"
Lady Macbeth.
Consider it not so deeply.
Macbeth.
But wherefore
could not I pronounce
"Amen"?
I had most need of blessing,
and "Amen"
Stuck in my throat.
Lady Macbeth.
These deeds
must not be thought
After these ways;
so,
it will make us mad.
Macbeth.
Methought
I heard a voice cry
"Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep"
-- the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up
the raveled sleave of care,
The death
of each day's life,
sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds,
great nature's
second course,
Chief nourisher
in life's feast--
Lady Macbeth.
What do you mean?
Macbeth.
Still it cried
"Sleep no more!"
to all the house:
"Glamis hath murdered sleep,
and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more:
Macbeth shall sleep no more."
Lady Macbeth.
Who was it
that thus cried?
Why,
worthy thane,
You do unbend
your noble strength,
to think
So brainsickly of things.
Go get some water,
And wash this filthy witness
from your hand.
Why did you
bring these daggers
from the place?
They must lie there:
go carry them,
and smear
The sleepy grooms
with blood.
Macbeth.
I'll go no more.
I am afraid to think
what I have done;
Look on 't again
I dare not.
Lady Macbeth.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers.
The sleeping
and the dead
Are but as pictures.
'Tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil.
If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces
of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit.
Knock within.]
Macbeth.
Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me,
when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here?
Ha!
They pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean
wash this blood Clean
from my hand?
No;
this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas
incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
Lady Macbeth.
My hands
are of your color,
but I shame To wear
a heart so white.
(Knock.)
I hear a knocking
At the south entry.
Retire we to our chamber.
A little water
clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then!
Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.
(Knock.)
Hark! more knocking.
Get on your nightgown,
lest occasion call us
And show us
to be watchers.
Be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
Macbeth.
To know my deed,
'twere best not know myself.
Wake Duncan
with thy knocking!
I would thou couldst!
[Exeunt.]
Porter.
Here's a knocking indeed!
If a man
were porter of hell gate,
he should have old
turning the key.
(Knock.)
Knock,
knock,
knock!
Who's there,
i' th' name of Beelzebub?
Here's a farmer,
that hanged himself
on th' expectation of plenty.
Come in time!
Have napkins enow about you;
here you'll sweat for 't.
(Knock.)
Knock, knock!
Who's there,
in th' other devil's name?
Faith,
here's an equivocator,
that could swear
in both the scales
against either scale;
who committed treason enough
for God's sake,
yet could not
equivocate to heaven.
O, come in,
equivocator.
(Knock.)
Knock,
knock,
knock!
Who's there?
Faith,
here's an English tailor
come hither
for stealing
out of a French hose:
come in, tailor.
Here you may roast
your goose.
(Knock.)
Knock, knock;
never at quiet!
What are you?
But this place
is too cold for hell.
I'll devil-porter it no further.
I had thought
to have let in
some of all professions
that go the primrose way
to th' everlasting bonfire.
(Knock.)
Anon, anon!
(Opens an entrance.)
I pray you,
remember the porter.
[Enter MACDUFF
and LENNOX.]
Macduff.
Was it so late, friend,
ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?
Porter.
Faith, sir,
we were carousing
till the second cock:
and drink, sir,
is a great provoker
of three things.
Macduff.
What three things
does drink especially provoke?
Porter.
Marry, sir,
nose-painting,
sleep,
and urine.
Lechery, sir,
it provokes and unprovokes;
it provokes the desire,
but it takes away
the performance:
therefore
much drink may be said
to be an equivocator
with lechery:
it makes him
and it mars him;
it sets him on
and it takes him off;
it persuades him
and disheartens him;
makes him stand to
and not stand to;
in conclusion,
equivocates him
in a sleep,
and giving him the lie,
leaves him.
Macduff.
I believe drink
gave thee the lie
last night.
Porter.
That it did, sir,
i' the very throat on me:
but I required him
for his lie, and,
I think,
being too strong for him,
though he
took up my legs sometime,
yet I make a shift
to cast him.
Macduff.
Is thy master stirring?
Our knocking
has awaked him;
here he comes.
Lennox.
Good morrow,
noble sir.
Macbeth.
Good morrow, both.
Macduff.
Is the king stirring,
worthy thane?
Macduff.
He did command me
to call timely on him:
I have almost
slipped the hour.
Macbeth.
I'll bring you to him.
Macduff.
I know this is
a joyful trouble to you;
But yet 'tis one.
Macbeth.
The labor
we delight in
physics pain.
This is the door.
Macduff.
I'll make so bold
to call,
For 'tis
my limited service.
[Exit MACDUFF.]
Lennox.
Goes the king hence today?
Macbeth.
He does:
he did appoint so.
Lennox.
The night has been unruly.
Where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down,
and,
as they say,
Lamentings
heard i' th' air,
strange screams of death,
And prophesying
with accents terrible
Of dire combustion
and confused events
New hatched
to th' woeful time:
the obscure bird
Clamored the livelong night.
Some say,
the earth Was feverous
and did shake.
Macbeth.
'Twas a rough night.
Lennox.
My young remembrance
cannot parallel
A fellow to it.
Macduff.
O horror,
horror,
horror!
Tongue nor heart
Cannot conceive
nor name thee.
Macbeth and Lennox.
What's the matter?
Macduff.
Confusion now hath made
his masterpiece.
Most sacrilegious murder
hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple,
and stole thence
The life o' th' building.
Macbeth.
What is't you say?
The life?
Lennox.
Mean you his majesty?
Macduff.
Approach the chamber,
and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:
do not bid me speak;
See,
and then speak yourselves.
Awake,
awake!
[Exeunt MACBETH
and LENNOX.]
Ring the alarum bell.
Murder and treason!
Banquo and Donalbain!
Malcolm!
Awake!
Shake off this downy sleep,
death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!
Up, up,
and see
The great doom's image!
Malcolm!
Banquo!
As from your graves
rise up,
and walk like sprites,
To countenance this horror.
Ring the bell.
[Bell rings.
Enter LADY MACBETH.]
Lady Macbeth.
What's the business,
That such
a hideous trumpet calls
to parley
The sleepers of the house?
Speak,
speak!
Macduff.
O gentle lady,
'Tis not for you
to hear what I can speak:
The repetition,
in a woman's ear,
Would murder as it fell.
O Banquo,
Banquo!
Our royal master's
murdered.
Lady Macbeth.
Woe, alas!
What,
in our house?
Banquo.
Too cruel anywhere.
Dear Duff,
I prithee,
contradict thyself,
And say it is not so.
[Enter MACBETH,
LENNOX,
and ROSS.]
Macbeth.
Had I but died
an hour before this chance,
I had lived
a blessèd time;
for from this instant
There's nothing serious
in mortality:
All is but toys.
Renown and grace is dead,
The wine of life is drawn,
and the mere lees
Is left this vault
to brag of.
[Enter MALCOLM
and DONALBAIN.]
Donalbain.
What is amiss?
Macbeth.
You are,
and do not know't.
The spring,
the head,
the fountain of your blood
Is stopped;
the very source of it
is stopped.
Macduff.
Your royal father's
murdered.
Lennox.
Those of his chamber,
as it seemed,
had done't:
Their hands and faces
were all badged with blood;
So were their daggers,
which unwiped we found
Upon their pillows.
They stared,
and were distracted.
No man's life
was to be
trusted with them.
Macbeth.
O,
yet I do repent me
of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Macduff.
Wherefore did you so?
Macbeth.
Who can be wise,
amazed,
temp'rate and furious,
Loyal and neutral,
in a moment?
No man.
The expedition
of my violent love
Outrun the pauser,
reason.
Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin
laced with
his golden blood,
And his gashed stabs
looked like a breach in nature
For ruin's wasteful entrance:
there,
the murderers,
Steeped in the colors
of their trade,
their daggers
Unmannerly breeched
with gore.
Who could refrain,
That had a heart to love,
and in that heart
Courage to make's love known?
Lady Macbeth.
Help me hence, ho!
Macduff.
Look to the lady.
Malcolm
(aside to DONALBAIN).
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim
this argument for ours?
Donalbain
(aside to MALCOLM).
What should be spoken here,
Where our fate,
hid in an auger-hole,
May rush,
and seize us?
Let's away:
Our tears
are not yet brewed.
Malcolm
(aside to DONALBAIN).
Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.
Banquo.
Look to the lady.
[LADY MACBETH
is carried out.]
And when we have
our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure,
let us meet
And question
this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further.
Fears and scruples
shake us.
In the great hand of God
I stand,
and thence Against
the undivulged pretense
I fight Of treasonous malice.
Macbeth.
Let's briefly
put on manly readiness,
And meet i' th' hall together.
All.
Well contented.
[Exeunt all but
MALCOLM and DONALBAIN.]
Malcolm.
This murderous shaft
that's shot
Hath not yet lighted,
and our safest way
Is to avoid the aim.
Therefore to horse;
And let us not be dainty
of leave-taking,
But shift away.
There's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself
when there's no mercy left.
[Exeunt.]
Enter ROSS with an OLD MAN.
Old Man.
Threescore and ten
I can remember well:
Within the volume
of which time
I have seen
Hours dreadful
and things strange,
but this sore night
Hath trifled
former knowings.
Ross.
Ha, good father,
Thou seest the heavens,
as troubled
with man's act,
Threatens his bloody stage.
By th' clock 'tis day,
And yet dark night
strangles the traveling lamp:
Is't night's predominance,
or the day's shame,
That darkness does
the face of earth entomb,
When living light
should kiss it?
Old Man.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed
that's done.
On Tuesday last
A falcon,
tow'ring
in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl
hawked at and killed.
Ross.
And Duncan's horses
-- a thing most strange
and certain --
Beauteous and swift,
the minions of their race,
Turned wild in nature,
broke their stalls,
flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience,
as they would make War
with mankind.
Old Man.
'Tis said
they eat each other.
Ross.
They did so,
to th' amazement of mine eyes,
That looked upon't.
Here comes
the good Macduff.
How goes the world,
sir, now?
Macduff.
Why, see you not?
Ross.
Is't known who did
this more than bloody deed?
Macduff.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Ross.
Alas, the day!
What good
could they pretend?
Macduff.
They were suborned:
Malcolm and Donalbain,
the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled,
which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Ross.
'Gainst nature still.
Thriftless ambition,
that will ravin up
Thine own life's means!
Then 'tis most like
The sovereignty
will fall upon Macbeth.
Macduff.
He is already named,
and gone to Scone
To be invested.
Ross.
Where is Duncan's body?
Macduff.
Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse
of his predecessors
And guardian of their bones.
Macduff.
No, cousin,
I'll to Fife.
Ross.
Well, I will thither.
Macduff.
Well,
may you see things
well done there.
Adieu,
Lest our old robes
sit easier than our new!
Old Man.
God's benison go with you,
and with those
That would make good of bad,
and friends of foes!
[Exeunt omnes.]
Banquo.
Thou hast it now:
king,
Cawdor,
Glamis, all,
As the weird women
promised,
and I fear
Thou play'dst most foully for't.
Yet it was said
It should not stand
in thy posterity,
But that myself
should be
the root and father
Of many kings.
If there come truth from them
-- As upon thee,
Macbeth,
their speeches shine --
Why,
by the verities
on thee made good,
May they not
be my oracles as well
And set me up in hope?
But hush,
no more!
[Sennet sounded.
Enter MACBETH as king,
LADY MACBETH,
LENNOX,
ROSS,
LORDS,
and ATTENDANTS.]
Macbeth.
Here's our chief guest.
Lady Macbeth.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap
in our great feast,
And all-thing unbecoming.
Macbeth.
Tonight we hold
a solemn supper, sir,
And I'll
request your presence.
Banquo.
Let your highness
Command upon me,
to the which my duties
Are with a most
indissoluble tie
For ever knit.
Macbeth.
Ride you this afternoon?
Banquo.
Ay, my good lord.
Macbeth.
We should have
else desired
your good advice
(Which still
hath been both grave
and prosperous)
In this day's council;
but we'll take tomorrow.
Is't far you ride?
Banquo.
As far, my lord,
as will fill up the time
'Twixt this and supper.
Go not my horse
the better,
I must become
a borrower of the night
For a dark hour or twain.
Macbeth.
Fail not our feast.
Banquo.
My lord,
I will not.
Macbeth.
We hear our bloody cousins
are bestowed
In England and in Ireland,
not confessing
Their cruel parricide,
filling their hearers
With strange invention.
But of that tomorrow,
When therewithal
we shall have cause of state
Craving us jointly.
Hie you to horse.
Adieu,
Till you return at night.
Goes Fleance with you?
Banquo.
Ay, my good lord:
our time
does call upon 's.
Macbeth.
I wish your horses
swift and sure of foot,
And so
I do commend you
to their backs.
Farewell.
[Exit BANQUO.]
Let every man
be master of his time
Till seven at night.
To make society
The sweeter welcome,
we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone.
While then,
God be with you!
[Exeunt LORDS
and all but MACBETH
and a SERVANT.]
Sirrah,
a word with you:
attend those men
Our pleasure?
Attendant.
They are,
my lord,
without the palace gate.
Macbeth.
Bring them before us.
[Exit SERVANT.]
To be thus is nothing,
but to be safely thus
-- Our fears in Banquo
stick deep,
And in his royalty of nature
reigns that
Which would be feared.
'Tis much he dares;
And,
to that dauntless temper
of his mind,
He hath a wisdom
that doth guide his valor
To act in safety.
There is none but he
Whose being I do fear:
and under him
My genius is rebuked,
as it is said
Mark Antony's was by Caesar.
He chid the sisters,
When first they put
the name of king upon me,
And bade them
speak to him;
then prophetlike
They hailed him father
to a line of kings.
Upon my head
they placed
a fruitless crown
And put
a barren scepter
in my gripe,
Thence to be wrenched
with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding.
If't be so,
For Banquo's issue
have I filed my mind;
For them
the gracious Duncan
have I murdered;
Put rancors
in the vessel of my peace
Only for them,
and mine eternal jewel
Given to
the common enemy of man,
To make them kings,
the seeds of Banquo kings!
Rather than so,
come, fate,
into the list,
And champion me
to th' utterance!
Who's there?
[Enter SERVANT
and two MURDERERS.]
Now go to the door,
and stay there
till we call.
[Exit SERVANT.]
Was it not yesterday
we spoke together?
Murderers.
It was,
so please your highness.
Macbeth.
Well then, now
Have you considered
of my speeches?
Know
That it was he
in the times past,
which held you
So under fortune,
which you thought had been
Our innocent self:
this I made good to you
In our last conference;
passed in probation with you,
How you
were borne in hand,
how crossed;
the instruments,
Who wrought with them,
and all things else
that might
To half a soul
and to a notion crazed
Say "Thus did Banquo."
First Murderer.
You made it
known to us.
Macbeth.
I did so;
and went further,
which is now
Our point
of second meeting.
Do you find
Your patience so predominant
in your nature,
That you
can let this go?
Are you so gospeled,
To pray
for this good man
and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand
hath bowed you
to the grave
And beggared yours forever?
First Murderer.
We are men,
my liege.
Macbeth.
Ay,
in the catalogue
ye go for men;
As hounds and greyhounds,
mongrels,
spaniels,
curs,
Shoughs,
water-rugs
and demi-wolves,
are clept
All by the name of dogs;
the valued file
Distinguishes the swift,
the slow,
the subtle,
The housekeeper,
the hunter,
every one
According to the gift
which bounteous nature
Hath in him closed,
whereby he does receive
Particular addition,
from the bill
That writes them all alike:
and so of men.
Now if you have
a station in the file,
Not i' th' worst rank of manhood,
say't,
And I will put that business
in your bosoms
Whose execution
takes your enemy off,
Grapples you to the heart
and love of us,
Who wear our health
but sickly in his life,
Which in his death
were perfect.
Second Murderer.
I am one,
my liege,
Whom the vile blows
and buffets of the world
Hath so incensed
that I am reckless
what I do
to spite the world.
First Murderer.
And I another
So weary with disasters,
tugged with fortune,
That I
would set my life
on any chance,
To mend it
or be rid on't.
Macbeth.
Both of you
Know Banquo
was your enemy.
Both Murderers.
True, my lord.
Macbeth.
So is he mine,
and in such bloody distance
That every minute
of his being
thrusts Against
my near'st of life:
and though I could
With barefaced power
sweep him from my sight
And bid my will
avouch it,
yet I must not,
For certain friends
that are
both his and mine,
Whose loves
I may not drop,
but wail his fall
Who I myself struck down:
and thence it is
That I to your assistance
do make love,
Masking the business
from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.
Second Murderer.
We shall, my lord,
Perform
what you command us.
First Murderer.
Though our lives--
Macbeth.
Your spirits
shine through you.
Within this hour at most
I will advise you
where to plant yourselves,
Acquaint you
with the perfect spy o' th' time,
The moment on't;
for't must be done tonight,
And something
from the palace;
always thought
That I require a clearness:
and with him
-- To leave no rubs
nor botches in the work --
Fleance his son,
that keeps him company,
Whose absence
is no less material to me
Than is his father's,
must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour.
Resolve yourselves apart:
I'll come to you anon.
Murderers.
We are resolved,
my lord.
Macbeth.
I'll call upon you straight.
Abide within.
It is concluded:
Banquo,
thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven,
must find it out tonight.
[Exeunt.]
Lady Macbeth.
Is Banquo gone from court?
Servant.
Ay, madam,
but returns again tonight.
Lady Macbeth.
Say to the king,
I would attend his leisure
For a few words.
Servant.
Madam, I will.
[Exit.]
Lady Macbeth.
Nought's had,
all's spent,
Where our desire
is got without content:
'Tis safer to be
that which we destroy
Than by destruction
dwell in doubtful joy.
How now, my lord!
Why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies
your companions making,
Using those thoughts
which should indeed have died
With them they think on?
Things without all remedy
Should be without regard:
what's done is done.
Macbeth.
We have scorched the snake,
not killed it:
She'll close and be herself,
whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger
of her former tooth.
But let the frame
of things disjoint,
both the worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat
our meal in fear,
and sleep In the affliction
of these terrible dreams
That shake us nightly:
better be with the dead,
Whom we,
to gain our peace,
have sent to peace,
Than on
the torture of the mind
to lie In restless ecstasy.
Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever
he sleeps well.
Treason has done his worst:
nor steel,
nor poison,
Malice domestic,
foreign levy,
nothing,
Can touch him further.
Lady Macbeth.
Come on.
Gentle my lord,
sleek o'er
your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial
among your guests tonight.
Macbeth.
So shall I, love;
and so,
I pray,
be you:
Let your remembrance
apply to Banquo;
Present him eminence,
both with eye and tongue:
Unsafe the while,
that we must lave
Our honors
in these flattering streams
And make our faces
vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
Lady Macbeth.
You must leave this.
Macbeth.
O, full of scorpions
is my mind,
dear wife!
Thou know'st that Banquo,
and his Fleance,
lives.
Lady Macbeth.
But in them
nature's copy's
not eterne.
Macbeth.
There's comfort yet;
they are assailable.
Then be thou joeund.
Ere the bat hath flown
His cloistered flight,
ere to black Hecate's summons
The shard-borne beetle
with his drowsy hums
Hath rung night's yawning peal,
there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.
Lady Macbeth.
What's to be done?
Macbeth.
Be innocent of the knowledge,
dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed.
Come,
seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye
of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody
and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces
that great bond
Which keeps me pale!
Light thickens,
and the crow Makes wing
to th' rooky wood.
Good things of day
begin to droop and drowse,
Whiles night's black agents
to their preys do rouse.
Thou marvel'st at my words:
but hold thee still;
Things bad begun
make strong themselves by ill:
So, prithee,
go with me.
[Exeunt.]
First Murderer.
But who did bid thee
join with us?
Second Murderer.
He needs not our mistrust;
since he delivers Our offices
and what we have to do
To the direction just.
First Murderer.
Then stand with us.
The west
yet glimmers
with some streaks of day.
Now spurs
the lated traveler apace
To gain the timely inn,
and near approaches
The subject of our watch.
Third Murderer.
Hark!
I hear horses.
Banquo
(within).
Give us a light there, ho!
Second Murderer.
Then 'tis he.
The rest
That are within
the note of expectation
Already are i' th' court.
First Murderer.
His horses go about.
Third Murderer.
Almost a mile:
but he does usually
-- So all men do --
from hence
to th' palace gate
Make it their walk.
[Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE,
with a torch.]
Second Murderer.
A light, a light!
First Murderer.
Stand to't.
Banquo.
It will be rain tonight.
First Murderer.
Let it come down.
Banquo.
O, treachery!
Fly,
good Fleance,
fly,
fly,
fly!
[Exit FLEANCE.]
Thou mayst revenge.
O slave!
[Dies.]
Third Murderer.
Who did
strike out the light?
First Murderer.
Was't not the way?
Third Murderer.
There's but one down;
the son is fled.
Second Murderer.
We have lost
best half of our affair.
First Murderer.
Well, let's away
and say how much
is done.
[Exeunt.]
Macbeth.
You know
your own degrees;
sit down:
At first and last,
the hearty welcome.
Lords.
Thanks to your majesty.
Macbeth.
Oneself
will mingle
with society
And play the humble host.
Our hostess
keeps her state,
but in best time
We will require her welcome.
Lady Macbeth.
Pronounce it for me, sir,
to all our friends,
For my heart speaks
they are welcome.
Macbeth.
See,
they encounter thee
with their hearts' thanks.
Both sides are even:
here I'll sit i' th' midst:
Be large in mirth;
anon we'll drink a measure
The table round.
(Goes to FIRST MURDERER.)
There's blood upon thy face.
Murderer.
'Tis Banquo's then.
Macbeth.
'Tis better thee without
than he within.
Is he dispatched?
Murderer.
My lord,
his throat is cut;
That I did for him.
Macbeth.
Thou are
the best o' th' cutthroats.
Yet he's good
that did the like for Fleance;
If thou didst it,
thou art the nonpareil.
Murderer.
Most royal sir,
Fleance is 'scaped.
Macbeth
(aside).
Then comes my fit again:
I had else been perfect,
Whole as the marble,
founded as the rock,
As broad and general
as the casing air:
But now I am cabined,
cribbed,
confined,
bound in
To saucy doubts and fears.
-- But Banquo's safe?
Murderer.
Ay, my good lord:
safe in a ditch he hides,
With twenty trenchèd gashes
on his head,
The least
a death to nature.
Macbeth.
Thanks for that.
(Aside.)
There the grown serpent lies;
the worm that's fled
Hath nature
that in time
will venom breed,
No teeth for th' present.
Get thee gone.
Tomorrow
We'll hear ourselves again.
[Exit FIRST MURDERER.]
Lady Macbeth.
My royal lord,
You do not
give the cheer.
The feast is sold
That is not often vouched,
while 'tis a-making,
'Tis given with welcome.
To feed
were best at home;
From thence,
the sauce to meat
is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
[Enter the GHOST OF BANQUO,
and sits
in Macbeth's place.]
Macbeth.
Sweet remembrancer!
Now good digestion
wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Lennox.
May't please your highness sit.
Macbeth.
Here had we now
our country's honor roofed,
Were the graced person
of our Banquo present
-- Who may
I rather challenge
for unkindness
Than pity for mischance!
Ross.
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise.
Please't your highness
To grace us
with your royal company?
Macbeth.
The table's full.
Lennox.
Here is
a place reserved, sir.
Lennox.
Here, my good lord.
What is't
that moves your highness?
Macbeth.
Which of you
have done this?
Lords.
What, my good lord?
Macbeth.
Thou canst not say
I did it.
Never shake
Thy gory locks at me.
Ross.
Gentlemen, rise,
his highness is not well.
Lady Macbeth.
Sit, worthy friends.
My Lord is often thus,
And hath been
from his youth.
Pray you,
keep seat.
The fit is momentary;
upon a thought
He will again be well.
If much you note him,
You shall offend him
and extend his passion.
Feed,
and regard him not.
-- Are you a man?
Macbeth.
Ay,
and a bold one,
that dare look on that
Which might appall the devil.
Lady Macbeth.
O proper stuff!
This is
the very painting
of your fear.
This is
the air-drawn dagger which,
you said,
Led you to Duncan.
O,
these flaws and starts,
Imposters to true fear,
would well become
A woman's story
at a winter's fire,
Authorized by her grandam.
Shame itself!
Why do you make
such faces?
When all's done,
You look
but on a stool.
Macbeth.
Prithee, see there!
Behold!
Look!
Lo!
How say you?
Why,
what care I?
If thou canst nod,
speak too.
If charnel houses
and our graves
must send
Those that we bury back,
our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.
[Exit GHOST.]
Lady Macbeth.
What,
quite unmanned in folly?
Macbeth.
If I stand here,
I saw him.
Lady Macbeth.
Fie, for shame!
Macbeth.
Blood hath been shed ere now,
i' th' olden time,
Ere humane statute
purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too,
murders have been performed
Too terrible for the car.
The time has been
That,
when the brains were out,
the man would die,
And there an end;
but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders
on their crowns,
And push us
from our stools.
This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Lady Macbeth.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends
do lack you.
Macbeth.
I do forget.
Do not muse at me,
my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity,
which is nothing
To those that know me.
Come,
love and health to all!
Then I'll sit down.
Give me some wine,
fill full.
I drink
to th' general joy
o' th' whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo,
whom we miss;
Would he were here!
To all and him we thirst,
And all to all.
Lady Macbeth.
Think of this,
good peers,
But as a thing of custom;
'tis no other.
Only
it spoils the pleasure
of the time.
Macbeth.
What man dare,
I dare.
Approach thou
like the rugged Russian bear,
The armed rhinoceros,
or th' Hyrcan tiger;
Take any shape but that,
and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble.
Or be alive again,
And dare me
to the desert
with thy sword.
If trembling I inhabit then,
protest me
The baby of a girl.
Hence,
horrible shadow!
Unreal mock'ry,
hence!
[Exit GHOST.]
Why, so:
being gone,
I am a man again.
Pray you,
sit still.
Lady Macbeth.
You have displaced the mirth,
broke the good meeting,
With most admired disorder.
Macbeth.
Can such things be,
And overcome us
like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder?
You make me strange
Even to the disposition
that I owe,
When now I think
you can behold such sights,
And keep
the natural ruby
of your cheeks,
When mine
is blanched with fear.
Ross.
What sights, my lord?
Lady Macbeth.
I pray you,
speak not:
he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him:
at once,
good night.
Stand not
upon the order
of your going,
But go at once.
Lennox.
Good night;
and better health
Attend his majesty!
Lady Macbeth.
A kind good night to all!
[Exeunt LORDS.]
Macbeth.
It will have blood,
they say:
blood will have blood.
Stones have been
known to move
and trees to speak;
Augurs and
understood relations
have By maggot-pies
and choughs and rooks
brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.
What is the night?
Lady Macbeth.
Almost at odds with morning,
which is which.
Macbeth.
How say'st thou,
that Macduff denies his person
At our great bidding?
Lady Macbeth.
Did you send to him, sir?
Macbeth.
I hear it by the way,
but I will send:
There's not
a one of them
but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd
I will tomorrow,
And betimes I will,
to the weird sisters:
More shall they speak,
for now
I am bent to know
By the worst means
the worst.
For mine own good
All causes shall give way.
I am in blood
Stepped in so far that,
should I wade no more,
Returning were
as tedious as go o'er.
Strange things
I have in head
that will to hand,
Which must be acted
ere they may be scanned.
Lady Macbeth.
You lack the season
of all natures,
sleep.
Macbeth.
Come, we'll to sleep.
My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear
that wants hard use.
We are yet
but young in deed.
[Exeunt.]
First Witch.
Why,
how now, Hecate!
you look angerly.
Hecate.
Have I not reason,
beldams as you are,
Saucy and overbold?
How did you dare
To trade
and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I,
the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver
of all harms,
Was never called
to bear my part,
Or show the glory
of our art?
And,
which is worse,
all you have done
Hath been
but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful;
who,
as others do,
Loves for his own ends,
not for you.
But make amends now:
get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i' th' morning:
thither
he Will come
to know his destiny.
Your vessels
and your spells provide,
Your charms
and everything beside.
I am for th' air;
this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal
and a fatal end:
Great business
must be wrought ere noon.
Upon the corner
of the moon
There hangs
a vap'rous drop profound;
I'll catch it
ere it come to ground:
And that
distilled by magic sleights
Shall raise
such artificial sprites
As by the strength
of their illusion
Shall draw him on
to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate,
scorn death,
and bear His hopes
'bove wisdom,
grace,
and fear:
And you all know
security
Is mortal's chiefest enemy.
[Music and a song.]
Hark!
I am called;
my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud
and stays for me.
[Exit.]
[Sing within,
"Come away,
come away," etc.]
First Witch.
Come,
let's make haste;
she'll soon be back again.
[Exeunt.]
Enter LENNOX and another LORD.
Lennox.
My former speeches have
but hit your thoughts,
Which can interpret farther.
Only I say
Things have been
strangely borne.
The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth:
marry,
he was dead.
And the right-valiant Banquo
walked too late;
Whom,
you may say,
if't please you,
Fleance killed,
For Fleance fled.
Men must not
walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought,
how monstrous
It was for Malcolm
and for Donalbain
To kill their gracious father?
Damnèd fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth!
Did he not straight,
In pious rage,
the two delinquents tear,
That were
the slaves of drink
and thralls of sleep?
Was not that nobly done?
Ay, and wisely too;
For 'twould have
angered any heart alive
To hear the men deny't.
So that I say
He has borne
all things well:
and I do think That,
had he Duncan's sons
under his key
-- As,
an 't please heaven,
he shall not --
they should find
What 'twere
to kill a father.
So should Fleance.
But, peace!
for from broad words,
and 'cause he failed
His presence
at the tyrant's feast,
I hear,
Macduff lives in disgrace.
Sir,
can you tell
Where he bestows himself?
Lord.
The son of Duncan,
From whom this tyrant
holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court,
and is received
Of the most pious Edward
with such grace
That the malevolence
of fortune nothing Takes
from his high respect.
Thither Macduff
Is gone
to pray the holy king,
upon his aid
To wake Northumberland
and warlike Siward;
That by the help of these,
with Him above
To ratify the work,
we may again
Give to our tables meat,
sleep to our nights,
Free from our feasts
and banquets bloody knives,
Do faithful homage
and receive free honors:
All which
we pine for now.
And this report
Hath so
exasperate the king
that he Prepares
for some attempt of war.
Lord.
I'll send my prayers
with him.
[Exeunt.]
Thunder.
Enter the three WITCHES.
First Witch.
Thrice the brinded cat
hath mewed.
Second Witch.
Thrice and once
the hedge-pig whined.
Third Witch.
Harpier cries,
'Tis time,
'tis time.
First Witch.
Round about the caldron go:
In the poisoned entrails throw.
Toad,
that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelt'red venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first
i' th' charmèd pot.
All.
Double,
double,
toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Second Witch.
Fillet of
a fenny snake,
In the caldron
boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork
and blindworm's sting,
Lizard's leg
and howlet's wing,
For a charm of pow'rful trouble,
Like a hell-broth
boil and bubble.
All.
Double,
double,
toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Third Witch.
Scale of dragon,
tooth of wolf,
Witch's mummy,
maw and gulf
Of the ravined salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock
digged i' th' dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat,
and slips of yew
Slivered in
the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-delivered by a drab,
Make the gruel thick
and slab:
Add thereto
a tiger's chaudron,
For th' ingredients
of our caldron.
All.
Double,
double,
toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Second Witch.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm
is firm and good.
[Enter HECATE
and the other three WITCHES.]
Hecate.
O, well done!
I commend your pains;
And every one
shall share i' th' gains:
And now about
the caldron sing,
Like elves
and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
[Music and a song:
"Black Spirits," etc.]
[Exeunt HECATE
and the other three WITCHES.]
Second Witch.
By the pricking
of my thumbs,
Something wicked
this way comes:
Open,
locks,
Whoever knocks!
Macbeth.
How now,
you secret,
black,
and midnight hags!
What is't you do?
All.
A deed without a name.
Macbeth.
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 lodged
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.
Third Witch.
We'll answer.
First Witch.
Say,
if th' hadst rather
hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters?
Macbeth.
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:
an Armed Head.]
Macbeth.
Tell me,
thou unknown power--
First Witch.
He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech,
but say thou nought.
First Apparition.
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Beware Macduff!
Beware the Thane of Fife.
Dismiss me:
enough.
[He descends.]
Macbeth.
Whate'er thou art,
for thy good caution thanks:
Thou hast harped 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.]
Second Apparition.
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Macbeth!
Second Apparition.
Be bloody,
bold,
and resolute!
Laugh to scorn
The pow'r of man,
for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.
[Descends.]
Macbeth.
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 Apparition.
Be lion-mettled,
proud,
and take no care
Who chafes,
who frets,
or where conspirers are:
Macbeth
shall never vanquished be
until Great Birnam Wood
to high Dunsinane Hill
Shall come against him.
[Descends.]
Macbeth.
That will never be.
Who can impress the forest,
bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root?
Sweet bodements,
good!
Rebellious dead,
rise never,
till the Wood Of Birnam rise,
and our high-placed 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.
Macbeth.
I will be satisfied.
Deny me this,
And an eternal curse
fall on you!
Let me know.
Why sinks that caldron?
And what noise is this?
All.
Show his eyes,
and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows,
so depart!
[A show of eight KINGS
and BANQUO,
last KING
with a glass in his hand.]
Macbeth.
Thou art too like
the spirit of Banquo.
Down!
Thy crown
does scar mine eyelids.
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 th' 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 twofold balls
and treble scepters carry:
Horrible sight!
Now I see 'tis true;
For the blood-boltered
Banquo smiles upon me,
And points
at them for his.
What,
is this so?
First Witch.
Ay, sir,
all this is so.
Buy 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 antic round,
That this great king
may kindly say
Our duties
did his welcome pay.
[Music.
The WITCHES dance,
and vanish.]
Macbeth.
Where are they?
Gone?
Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursèd
in the calendar!
Come in,
without there!
Lennox.
What's your grace's will?
Macbeth.
Saw you the weird sisters?
Macbeth.
Came they not by you?
Lennox.
No indeed,
my lord.
Macbeth.
Infected by the air
whereon they ride,
And damned all those
that trust them!
I did hear
The galloping of horse.
Who was't came by?
Lennox.
'Tis two or three,
my lord,
that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.
Macbeth.
Fled to England?
Lennox.
Ay, my good lord.
Macbeth
(aside).
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 th' edge o' th' 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 more sights!
-- Where are these gentlemen?
Come,
bring me where they are.
[Exeunt.]
Lady Macduff.
What had he done,
to make him fly the land?
Ross.
You must have patience,
madam.
Lady Macduff.
He had none:
His flight was madness.
When our actions do not,
Our fears
do make us traitors.
Ross.
You know not
Whether it
was his wisdom
or his fear.
Lady Macduff.
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 wren,
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.
Ross.
My dearest coz,
I pray you,
school yourself.
But,
for your husband,
He is noble,
wise,
judicious,
and best knows
The fits o' th' season.
I dare not
speak much further:
But cruel are the times,
when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves;
when we hold rumor
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!
Lady Macduff.
Fathered he is,
and yet he's fatherless.
Ross.
I am so much a fool,
should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace
and your discomfort.
I take my leave at once.
[Exit ROSS.]
Lady Macduff.
Sirrah,
your father's dead:
And what
will you do now?
How will you live?
Son.
As birds do, mother.
Lady Macduff.
What,
with worms and flies?
Son.
With what I get,
I mean;
and so do they.
Lady Macduff.
Poor bird!
thou'dst never fear
the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
Son.
Why should I, mother?
Poor birds
they are not set for.
My father is not dead,
for all your saying.
Lady Macduff.
Yes, he is dead:
how wilt thou do
for a father?
Son.
Nay,
how will you do
for a husband?
Lady Macduff.
Why,
I can buy me twenty
at any market.
Son.
Then you'll buy 'em
to sell again.
Lady Macduff.
Thou speak'st
with all thy wit,
and yet, i' faith,
With wit enough for thee.
Son.
Was my father a traitor,
mother?
Lady Macduff.
Ay, that he was.
Lady Macduff.
Why,
one that swears
and lies.
Son.
And be all traitors
that do so?
Lady Macduff.
Every one that does so
is a traitor,
and must be hanged.
Son.
And must
they all be hanged
that swear and lie?
Lady Macduff.
Why,
the honest men.
Son.
Then the liars
and swearers are fools;
for there are liars
and swearers enow
to heat the honest men
and hang up them.
Lady Macduff.
Now,
God help thee,
poor monkey!
But how wilt thou do
for a father?
Son.
If he were dead,
you'd weep for him.
If you would not,
it were a good sign
that I
should quickly have
a new father.
Lady Macduff.
Poor prattler,
how thou talk'st!
Messenger.
Bless you,
fair dame!
I am not
to you known,
Though in your state of honor
I am perfect.
I doubt some danger
does approach you nearly:
If you will take
a homely man's advice,
Be not found here;
hence,
with your little ones.
To fright you thus,
methinks I am too savage;
To do worse to you
were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person.
Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.
[Exit MESSENGER.]
Lady Macduff.
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm.
But I remember now
I am in this earthly world,
where to do harm
Is often laudable,
to do good
sometime Accounted
dangerous folly.
Why then, alas,
Do I put up
that womanly defense,
To say
I have done no harm?
-- What are these faces?
Murderer.
Where is your husband?
Lady Macduff.
I hope,
in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou
mayst find him.
Murderer.
He's a traitor.
Son.
Thou li'st,
thou shag-eared villain!
Son.
He has killed me,
mother:
Run away,
I pray you!
[Dies.]
[Exit LADY MACDUFF,
crying "Murder!"
followed by MURDERERS.]
Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF.
Malcolm.
Let us seek out
some desolate shade,
and there Weep
our sad bosoms empty.
Macduff.
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword,
and like good men
Bestride our down-fall'n
birthdom.
Each new morn
New widows howl,
new orphans cry,
new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face,
that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland
and yelled out
Like syllable of dolor.
Malcolm.
What I believe,
I'll wail;
What know,
believe;
and what I can redress,
As I shall find
the time to friend,
I will.
What you have spoke,
it may be so perchance.
This tyrant,
whose sole name
blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest:
you have loved him well;
He hath not touched you yet.
I am young;
but something
You may deserve of him
through me;
and wisdom
To offer up a weak,
poor,
innocent lamb
T' appease an angry god.
Macduff.
I am not treacherous.
Malcolm.
But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuous nature
may recoil
In an imperial charge.
But I shall crave your pardon;
That which you are,
my thoughts cannot transpose:
Angels are bright still,
though the brightest fell:
Though all things foul
would wear
the brows of grace,
Yet grace
must still look so.
Macduff.
I have lost my hopes.
Malcolm.
Perchance even there
where I did find my doubts.
Why in
that rawness
left you wife and child,
Those precious motives,
those strong knots of love,
Without leave-taking?
I pray you,
Let not my jealousies
be your dishonors,
But mine own safeties.
You may be rightly just
Whatever I shall think.
Macduff.
Bleed, bleed,
poor country:
Great tyranny,
lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness
dare not check thee:
wear thou thy wrongs;
The title is affeered.
Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain
that thou think'st
For the whole space
that's in the tyrant's grasp
And the rich East to boot.
Malcolm.
Be not offended:
I speak not
as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country
sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps,
it bleeds,
and each new day
a gash Is added
to her wounds.
I think withal
There would be hands
uplifted in my right;
And here
from gracious England
have I offer
Of goodly thousands:
but,
for all this,
When I shall tread
upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it
on my sword,
yet my poor country
Shall have more vices
than it had before,
More suffer,
and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.
Macduff.
What should he be?
Macduff.
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell
can come a devil
more damned In evils
to top Macbeth.
Malcolm.
I grant him bloody,
Luxurious,
avaricious,
false,
deceitful,
Sudden,
malicious,
smacking of every sin
That has a name:
but there's no bottom,
none,
In my voluptuousness:
your wives,
your daughters,
Your matrons and your maids,
could not fill up
The cistern of my lust,
and my desire
All continent impediments
would o'erbear,
That did oppose my will.
Better Macbeth
Than such an one
to reign.
Macduff.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny;
it hath been
Th' untimely emptying
of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings.
But fear not yet
To take upon you
what is yours:
you may Convey
your pleasures
in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold,
the time
you may so hoodwink.
We have
willing dames enough.
There cannot be
That vulture in you,
to devour so many
As will to greatness
dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclined.
Malcolm.
With this there grows
In my most
ill-composed affection
such
A stanchless avarice that,
were I king,
I should cut off the nobles
for their lands,
Desire his jewels
and this other's house:
And my more-having
would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more,
that I should forge
Quarrels unjust
against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
Macduff.
This avarice Sticks deeper,
grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust,
and it hath been
The sword
of our slain kings.
Yet do not fear.
Scotland hath foisons
to fill up your will
Of your mere own.
All these are portable,
With other graces weighed.
Malcolm.
If such a one
be fit to govern,
speak:
I am as I have spoken.
Macduff.
Fit to govern!
No, not to live.
O nation miserable!
With an untitled tyrant
bloody-sceptered,
When shalt thou see
thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue
of thy throne
By his own interdiction
stands accursed,
And does blaspheme his breed?
Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king:
the queen that bore thee,
Oft'ner upon her knees
than on her feet,
Died every day she lived.
Fare thee well!
These evils
thou repeat'st upon thyself
Hath banished me from Scotland.
O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!
Malcolm.
Macduff,
this noble passion,
Child of integrity,
hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples,
reconciled my thoughts
To thy good truth and honor.
Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains
hath sought to win me
Into his power;
and modest wisdom
plucks me
From over-credulous haste:
but God above
Deal between thee and me!
For even now
I put myself to thy direction,
and Unspeak mine own detraction;
here abjure
The taints and blames
I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature.
I am yet
Unknown to woman,
never was forsworn,
Scarcely have coveted
what was mine own,
At no time
broke my faith,
would not betray
The devil to his fellow,
and delight No less
in truth than life.
My first false speaking
Was this upon myself.
What I am truly,
Is thine
and my poor country's
to command:
Whither indeed,
before thy here-approach,
Old Siward,
with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point,
was setting forth.
Now we'll together,
and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel!
Why are you silent?
Malcolm.
Well, more anon.
Comes the king forth,
I pray you?
Doctor.
Ay, sir.
There are a crew
of wretched souls
That stay his cure:
their malady convinces
The great assay of art;
but at his touch,
Such sanctity
hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.
Malcolm.
I thank you, doctor.
[Exit DOCTOR.]
Macduff.
What's the disease
he means?
Malcolm.
'Tis called the evil:
A most miraculous work
in this good king,
Which often
since my here-remain in England
I have seen him do.
How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows:
but strangely visited people,
All swoll'n and ulcerous,
pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery,
he cures,
Hanging a golden stamp
about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers:
and 'tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty
he leaves
The healing benediction.
With this strange virtue
He hath
a heavenly gift of prophecy,
And sundry blessings
hang about his throne
That speak him
full of grace.
Macduff.
See,
who comes here?
Malcolm.
My countryman;
but yet
I know him not.
Macduff.
My ever gentle cousin,
welcome hither.
Malcolm.
I know him now:
good God,
betimes
remove The means
that makes us strangers!
Macduff.
Stands Scotland
where it did?
Ross.
Alas,
poor country!
Almost afraid
to know itself!
It cannot
Be called our mother
but our grave,
where nothing
But who knows nothing
is once seen to smile;
Where sighs and groans,
and shrieks
that rent the air,
Are made,
not marked;
where violent sorrow
seems
A modern ecstasy.
The dead man's knell
Is there scarce
asked for who,
and good men's lives
Expire before
the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.
Macduff.
O,
relation Too nice,
and yet too true!
Malcolm.
What's the newest grief?
Ross.
That of an hour's age
doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute
teems a new one.
Macduff.
And all my children?
Macduff.
The tyrant
has not battered
at their peace?
Ross.
No;
they were well at peace
when I did leave 'em.
Macduff.
Be not
a niggard of your speech:
how goes't?
Ross.
When I came hither
to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne,
there ran a rumor
Of many worthy fellows
that were out;
Which was
to my belief witnessed
the rather,
For that I saw
the tyrant's power afoot.
Now is the time of help.
Your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers,
make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.
Malcolm.
Be't their comfort
We are coming thither.
Gracious England
hath Lent us good Siward
and ten thousand men;
An older
and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.
Ross.
Would I could answer
This comfort with the like!
But I have words
That would be howled out
in the desert air,
Where hearing
should not latch them.
Macduff.
What concern they?
The general cause
or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?
Ross.
No mind that's honest
But in it shares some woe,
though the main part
Pertains to you alone.
Macduff.
If it be mine,
Keep it not from me,
quickly let me have it.
Ross.
Let not your ears
despise my tongue forever,
Which shall possess them
with the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.
Macduff.
Humh!
I guess at it.
Ross.
Your castle is surprised;
your wife and babes
Savagely slaughtered.
To relate the manner,
Were,
on the quarry
of these murdered deer,
To add the death of you.
Malcolm.
Merciful heaven!
What, man!
Ne'er pull your hat
upon your brows;
Give sorrow words.
The grief
that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart,
and bids it break.
Macduff.
My children too?
Ross.
Wife,
children,
servants,
all That could be found.
Macduff.
And I must be from thence!
My wife killed too?
Malcolm.
Be comforted.
Let's make us med'cines
of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macduff.
He has no children.
All my pretty ones?
Did you say all?
O hell-kite!
All?
What,
all my pretty chickens
and their dam
At one fell swoop?
Malcolm.
Dispute it like a man.l05Macduff.
I shall do so;
But I must also feel it
as a man.
I cannot but remember
such things were,
That were
most precious to me.
Did heaven look on,
And would not
take their part?
Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee!
Naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits
but for mine
Fell slaughter on their souls.
Heaven rest them now!
Malcolm.
Be this the whetstone
of your sword.
Let grief
Convert to anger;
blunt not the heart,
enrage it.
Macduff.
O,
I could play the woman
with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue!
But,
gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission;
front to front
Bring thou
this fiend of Scotland
and myself;
Within my sword's length
set him.
If he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!
Malcolm.
This time goes manly.
Come,
go we to the king.
Our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing
but our leave.
Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking,
and the pow'rs above
Put on their instruments.
Receive what cheer you may.
The night is long
that never finds the day.
[Exeunt.]
Enter a DOCTOR of physic
and a waiting GENTLEWOMAN.
Doctor.
I have two nights
watched with you,
but can perceive
no truth in your report.
When was it
she last walked?
Gentlewoman.
Since his majesty
went into the field,
I have seen her
rise from her bed,
throw her nightgown upon her,
unlock her closet,
take forth paper,
fold it,
write upon't,
read it,
afterwards seal it,
and again return to bed;
yet all this while
in a most fast sleep.
Doctor.
A great perturbation in nature,
to receive at once
the benefit of sleep
and do the effects
of watching!
In this slumb'ry agitation,
besides her walking
and other actual performances,
what,
at any time,
have you heard her say?
Gentlewoman.
That, sir,
which I will not report
after her.
Doctor.
You may to me,
and 'tis most meet
you should.
Gentlewoman.
Neither to you nor anyone,
having no witness
to confirm my speech.
[Enter LADY MACBETH,
with a taper.]
Lo you,
here she comes!
This is her very guise,
and,
upon my life,
fast asleep!
Observe her;
stand close.
Doctor.
How came she
by that light?
Gentlewoman.
Why,
it stood by her.
She has light
by her continually.
'Tis her command.
Doctor.
You see,
her eyes are open.
Gentlewoman.
Ay,
but their sense
are shut.
Doctor.
What is it
she does now?
Look,
how she rubs her hands.
Gentlewoman.
It is an accustomed action
with her,
to seem thus
washing her hands:
I have known her
continue in this
a quarter of an hour.
Lady Macbeth.
Yet here's a spot.
Doctor.
Hark! she speaks.
I will set down
what comes from her,
to satisfy
my remembrance
the more strongly.
Lady Macbeth.
Out, damned spot!
Out, I say!
One: two:
why,
then 'tis time to do't.
Hell is murky.
Fie, my Lord, fie!
A soldier,
and afeard?
What need we fear
who knows it,
when none
can call our pow'r
to accompt?
Yet who
would have thought
the old man to have had
so much blood in him?
Doctor.
Do you mark that?
Lady Macbeth.
The Thane of Fife
had a wife.
Where is she now?
What,
will these hands
ne'er be clean?
No more o' that,
my lord,
no more o' that!
You mar all
with this starting.
Doctor.
Go to, go to!
You have known
what you should not.
Gentlewoman.
She has spoke
what she should not,
I am sure of that.
Heaven knows
what she has known.
Lady Macbeth.
Here's the smell
of the blood still.
All the perfumes of Arabia
will not sweeten
this little hand.
Oh, oh, oh!
Doctor.
What a sigh is there!
The heart
is sorely charged.
Gentlewoman.
I would not
have such a heart
in my bosom
for the dignity
of the whole body.
Doctor.
Well, well, well--
Gentlewoman.
Pray God it be, sir.
Doctor.
This disease
is beyond my practice.
Yet I have known those
which have walked
in their sleep
who have died holily
in their beds.
Lady Macbeth.
Wash your hands;
put on your nightgown;
look not so pale!
I tell you yet again,
Banquo's buried.
He cannot come out
on 's grave.
Lady Macbeth.
To bed,
to bed!
There's knocking
at the gate.
Come,
come,
come,
come,
give me your hand!
What's done
cannot be undone.
To bed,
to bed,
to bed!
[Exit LADY MACBETH.]
Doctor.
Will she go now to bed?
Doctor.
Foul whisp'rings
are abroad.
Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles.
Infected minds
To their deaf pillows
will discharge their secrets.
More needs she
the divine
than the physician.
God,
God forgive us all!
Look after her;
Remove from her
the means
of all annoyance,
And still
keep eyes upon her.
So good night.
My mind
she has mated
and amazed my sight:
I think,
but dare not speak.
Gentlewoman.
Good night,
good doctor.
[Exeunt.]
Drum and colors.
Enter MENTEITH,
CAITHNESS,
ANGUS,
LENNOX,
SOLDIERS.
Menteith.
The English pow'r is near,
led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward
and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them;
for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding
and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.
Angus.
Near Birnam Wood
Shall we well meet them;
that way are they coming.
Caithness.
Who knows if Donalbain
be with his brother?
Lennox.
For certain, sir,
he is not.
I have a file
Of all the gentry:
there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths
that even now Protest
their first of manhood.
Menteith.
What does the tyrant?
Caithness.
Great Dunsinance
he strongly fortifies.
Some say he's mad;
others,
that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury:
but, for certain,
He cannot buckle
his distempered cause
Within the belt of rule.
Angus.
Now does he feel
His secret murders
sticking on his hands;
Now minutely
revolts upbraid his faith-breach.
Those he commands
move only in command,
Nothing in love.
Now does he
feel his title
Hang loose about him,
like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.
Menteith.
Who then shall blame
His pestered senses
to recoil and start,
When all that is within him
does condemn Itself
for being there?
Caithness.
Well,
march we on,
To give obedience
where 'tis truly owed.
Meet we the med'cine
of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we,
in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.
Lennox.
Or so much as it needs
To dew the sovereign flower
and drown the weeds.
Make we our march
towards Birnam.
[Exeunt, marching.]
Enter MACBETH,
DOCTOR,
and ATTENDANTS.
Macbeth.
Bring me no more reports;
let them fly all!
Till Birnam Wood
remove to Dunsinane
I cannot taint with fear.
What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman?
The spirits that know
All mortal consequences
have pronounced me thus:
"Fear not, Macbeth;
no man
that's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee."
Then fly,
false thanes,
And mingle
with the English epicures.
The mind I sway by
and the heart I bear
Shall never sag with doubt
nor shake with fear.
The devil damn thee black,
thou cream-faced loon!
Where got'st thou
that goose look?
Servant.
There is ten thousand--
Macbeth.
Go prick thy face
and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-livered boy.
What soldiers,
patch?
Death of thy soul!
Those linen cheeks of thine
Are counselors to fear.
What soldiers,
whey-face?
Servant.
The English force,
so please you.
Macbeth.
Take thy face hence.
[Exit SERVANT.]
Seyton!
-- I am sick at heart,
When I behold--
Seyton, I say!
-- This push
Will cheer me ever,
or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough.
My way of life
Is fall'n into the sear,
the yellow leaf,
And that which
should accompany old age,
As honor,
love,
obedience,
troops of friends,
I must not look to have;
but,
in their stead,
Curses not loud but deep,
mouth-honor,
breath,
Which the poor heart
would fain deny,
and dare not.
Seyton!
Seyton.
What's your gracious pleasure?
Seyton.
All is confirmed,
my lord,
which was reported.
Macbeth.
I'll fight,
till from my bones
my flesh be hacked.
Give me my armor.
Seyton.
'Tis not needed yet.
Macbeth.
I'll put it on.
Send out moe horses,
skirr the country round.
Hang those
that talk of fear.
Give me mine armor.
How does your patient,
doctor?
Doctor.
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled
with thick-coming fancies
That keep her
from her rest.
Macbeth.
Cure her of that.
Canst thou
not minister
to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory
a rooted sorrow,
Raze out
the written troubles
of the brain,
And with some sweet
oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom
of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doctor.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macbeth.
Throw physic to the dogs,
I'll none of it.
Come,
put mine armor on.
Give me my staff,
Seyton,
send out.
-- Doctor,
the thanes fly from me.--
Come, sir,
dispatch.
If thou couldst,
doctor,
cast The water
of my land,
find her disease
And purge it
to a sound
and pristine health,
I would applaud thee
to the very echo,
That should applaud again.
-- Pull't off, I say --
What rhubarb,
senna,
or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence?
Hear'st thou of them?
Doctor.
Ay, my good lord;
your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
Macbeth.
Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid
of death and bane
Till Birnam Forest
come to Dunsinane.
Doctor
(aside).
Were I from Dunsinane
away and clear,
Profit again
should hardly draw me here.
[Exeunt.]
Drum and colors.
Enter MALCOLM,
SIWARD,
MACDUFF,
Siward's son YOUNG SIWARD,
MENTEITH,
CAITHNESS,
ANGUS,
and SOLDIERS, marching.
Malcolm.
Cousins,
I hope the days
are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.
Menteith.
We doubt it nothing.
Siward.
What wood
is this before us?
Menteith.
The Wood of Birnam.
Malcolm.
Let every soldier
hew him down a bough
And bear't before him.
Thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host,
and make discovery
Err in report of us.
Soldiers.
It shall be done.
Siward.
We learn no other
but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane,
and will endure
Our setting down before't.
Malcolm.
'Tis his main hope,
For where there is
advantage to be given
Both more and less
have given him the revolt,
And none serve with him
but constrainèd things
Whose hearts are absent too.
Macduff.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event,
and put we on
Industrious soldiership.
Siward.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision
make us know
What we shall say we have
and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative
their unsure hopes relate,
But certain issue strokes
must arbitrate:
Towards which
advance the war.
[Exeunt, marching.]
Enter MACBETH,
SEYTON,
and SOLDIERS,
with drum and colors.
Macbeth.
Hang out our banners
on the outward walls.
The cry is still
"They come!"
Our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege
to scorn.
Here let them lie
Till famine and the ague
eat them up.
Were they not forced
with those
that should be ours,
We might have
met them dareful,
beard to beard,
And beat them
backward home.
Seyton.
It is the cry of women,
my good lord.
[Exit.]
Macbeth.
I have almost forgot
the taste of fears:
The time has been,
my senses
would have cooled
To hear a night-shriek,
and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise
rouse and stir
As life were in't.
I have supped full
with horrors.
Direness,
familiar to
my slaughterous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
[Enter SEYTON.]
Seyton.
The queen,
my lord,
is dead.
Macbeth.
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time
for such a word.
Tomorrow,
and tomorrow,
and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace
from day to day,
To the last syllable
of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays
have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out,
brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow,
a poor player
That struts and frets
his hour upon the stage
And then
is heard no more.
It is a tale
Told by an idiot,
full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Thou com'st
to use thy tongue;
thy story quickly!
Messenger.
Gracious my lord,
I should report
that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do't.
Messenger.
As I did stand my watch
upon the hill,
I looked toward Birnam,
and anon,
methought,
The wood began to move.
Messenger.
Let me endure your wrath,
if't be not so.
Within this three mile
may you see it coming;
I say a moving grove.
Macbeth.
If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree
shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee.
If thy speech be sooth,
I care not
if thou dost
for me as much.
I pull in resolution,
and begin To doubt
th' equivocation
of the fiend
That lies like truth:
"Fear not,
till Birnam Wood
Do come to Dunsinane!"
And now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.
Arm,
arm,
and out!
If this
which he avouches
does appear,
There is
nor flying hence
nor tarrying here.
I 'gin to be aweary
of the sun,
And wish
th' estate o' th' world
were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell!
Blow wind,
come wrack!
At least we'll die
with harness on our back.
[Exeunt.]
Drum and colors.
Enter MALCOLM,
SIWARD,
MACDUFF,
and their ARMY,
with boughs.
Malcolm.
Now near enough.
Your leavy screens throw down,
And show
like those you are.
You,
worthy uncle,
Shall,
with my cousin,
your right noble son,
Lead our first battle.
Worthy Macduff and we
Shall take upon's
what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Siward.
Fare you well.
Do we but find
the tyrant's power tonight,
Let us be beaten,
if we cannot fight.
Macduff.
Make all our trumpets speak;
give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers
of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.]
Macbeth.
They have tied me
to a stake;
I cannot fly,
But bearlike
I must fight the course.
What's he
That was not born of woman?
Such a one
Am I to fear,
or none.
Young Siward.
What is thy name?
Macbeth.
Thou'lt be afraid
to hear it.
Young Siward.
No;
though thou call'st thyself
a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
Macbeth.
My name's Macbeth.
Young Siward.
The devil himself
could not
pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
Macbeth.
No,
nor more fearful.
Young Siward.
Thou liest,
abhorrèd tyrant;
with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[Fight,
and YOUNG SIWARD slain.]
Macbeth.
Thou wast born of woman.
But swords I smile at,
weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandished by man
that's of a woman born.
[Exit.]
[Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.]
Macduff.
That way the noise is.
Tyrant,
show thy face!
If thou be'st slain
and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts
will haunt me still.
I cannot strike
at wretched kerns,
whose arms Are hired
to bear their staves.
Either thou,
Macbeth,
Or else my sword,
with an unbattered edge,
I sheathe again undeeded.
There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter,
one of greatest note
Seems bruited.
Let me find him,
Fortune!
And more I beg not.
[Exit Alarums.]
[Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD.]
Siward.
This way, my lord.
The castle's gently rend'red;
The tyrant's people
on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes
do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself
professes yours,
And little is to do.
Malcolm.
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Siward.
Enter, sir,
the castle.
Macbeth.
Why should I play
the Roman fool,
and die
On mine own sword?
Whiles I see lives,
the gashes
Do better upon them.
Macduff.
Turn,
hell-hound,
turn!
Macbeth.
Of all men else
I have avoided thee.
But get thee back!
My soul
is too much charged
With blood of thine already.
Macduff.
I have no words:
My voice
is in my sword,
thou bloodier villain
Than terms
can give thee out!
[Fight. Alarum.]
Macbeth.
Thou losest labor:
As easy mayst thou
the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress
as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade
on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmèd life,
which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Macduff.
Despair thy charm,
And let the angel
whom thou still hast served
Tell thee,
Macduff was
from his mother's womb
Untimely ripped.
Macbeth.
Accursèd
be that tongue
that tells me so,
For it hath cowed
my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends
no more believed,
That palter with us
in a double sense;
That keep the word
of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.
I'll not fight with thee.
Macduff.
Then yield thee,
coward,
And live
to be the show
and gaze o' th' time:
We'll have thee,
as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole,
and underwrit,
"Here may you see
the tyrant."
Macbeth.
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground
before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited
with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam Wood
be come to Dunsinane,
And thou opposed,
being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last.
Before my body
I throw my warlike shield.
Lay on, Macduff;
And damned be him
that first cries
"Hold, enough!"
[Exeunt, fighting. Alarums.]
[Reenter fighting,
and MACBETH slain.
Exit MACDUFF,
with MACBETH.
Retreat and flourish.
Enter,
with drum and colors,
MALCOLM,
SIWARD,
ROSS,
THANES,
and SOLDIERS.]
Malcolm.
Macduff is missing,
and your noble son.
Ross.
Your son, my lord,
has paid
a soldier's debt:
He only lived
but till
he was a man;
The which no sooner
had his prowess confirmed
In the unshrinking station
where he fought,
But like a man
he died.
Ross.
Ay,
and brought off the field.
Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured
by his worth,
for then
It hath no end.
Siward.
Had he his hurts before?
Siward.
Why then,
God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons
as I have hairs,
I would not wish them
to a fairer death:
And so his knell
is knolled.
Malcolm.
He's worth more sorrow,
And that
I'll spend for him.
Siward.
He's worth no more:
They say
he parted well
and paid his score:
And so
God be with him!
Here comes newer comfort.
[Enter MACDUFF,
with Macbeth's head.]
Macduff.
Hail, king!
for so thou art:
behold,
where stands
Th' usurper's cursed head.
The time is free.
I see thee compassed
with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation
in their minds,
Whose voices
I desire aloud with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!
All.
Hail, King of Scotland!
Malcolm.
We shall not spend
a large expense of time
Before we reckon with
your several loves,
And make us even with you.
My thanes and kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls,
the first that ever Scotland
In such an honor named.
What's more to do,
Which would be planted
newly with the time
-- As calling home
our exiled friends abroad
That fled the snares
of watchful tyranny,
Producing forth
the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher
and his fiendlike queen,
Who,
as 'tis thought,
by self and violent hands
Took off her life --
this,
and what needful else
That calls upon us,
by the grace of Grace
We will perform in measure,
time,
and place:
So thanks to all at once
and to each one,
Whom we invite
to see us crowned
at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt omnes.]