Nor would we deign him burial of his men, 'Till he difburfed, at Saint Colmes inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general ufe. King. No more that thane of Cawdor fhall deceive Our bofom intereft. Go, pronounce his prefent death; And with his former title greet Macbeth. Roffe. I'll fee it done. King. What he hath loft, noble Macbeth hath won. SCENE III. Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 1 Witch. Where haft thou been, fister? 3 Witch. Sifter, where thou? [Exeunt. I Witch. A failor's wife had chefnuts in her lap. And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht:-Give me, quoth I. Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyan cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, mafter o' th' tyger: 2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind. 1 Witch. Thou art kind. 3 Witch. And I another. 1 Witch. I myself have all the other; I will drain him dry as hay : 1 Weary Weary feven nights, nine times nine, 2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me. 1 Witch Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd as homeward he did come. [Drum within. 3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come. All. The weird fifters, hand in hand, Pofters of the fea and land, Thus do go about, about; Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, Enter MACBETH, and BANQUO. Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not feen. That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, Mach. Speak, if you can ;-What are you? 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! thou shalt be king Bans Ban. Good fir, why do you start, and feem to fear Things that do found so fair? I' th' name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye fhew My noble partner That he feems rapt withal; to me you speak not: And fay, which grain will grow, and which will not; I Witch. Hail! 2 Witch. Hail! 3 Witch. Hail! I Witch. Leffer than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not fo happy, yet much happier. 3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings tho' thou be none : So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 2 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence Ban. The earth hath bubbles as the water has, And these are of them :-Whither are they vanish'd? Macb. Into the air; and what feem'd corporal, melted As breath into the wind.-'Would they had ftaid! Ban Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do speak about? Macb. Your children shall be kings, Mach And thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo? Enter Rosse, and ANGUS. Roffe. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy fuccefs: and, when he reads Thy perfonal venture in the rebel's fight, His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine, or his : Silenc'd with that, In viewing o'er the reft o' the self-fame day, He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afraid of what thyfelf diaft make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale, Came poft with post; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd Ang down before him. fent, To give thee, from our royal mafter, thanks; Not pay thee. Roffe. And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane ! For it is thine, Ban. What! can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you drefs me In borrow'd robes ? Ang. Who was the thane lives yet; But But under heavy judgment bears that life, Macb. Glamis, and thane of Cawdor : The greateft is behind.-Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children fhall be kings, When thofe that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no lefs to them? Ban. That, trufted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, As happy prologues to the fwelling act Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.- Cannot be ill; cannot be good.-If ill, My thought, whofe murder yet is but fantastical, But |