SCENE II.

The Palace at Fores.

Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENox, Rosse, and Attendants, meeting a bleeding OFFICER.

King. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.

Mal. 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.

Off. Doubtfully it stood;

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choke their art. The merciless Macdowald
From the western isles

Of Kernes and Gallow-glasses is supply'd;

And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,

Like valour's minion,

Carv'd out his passage, till he fac'd the slave;
And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

King. O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Off. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:

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

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

King. Dismay'd not this

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo ?
Off. Yes;

As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.—
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds;

They smack of honour both :-Go, get him surgeons. [Exeunt OFFICER, and two ATTENDANTS.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy thane of Fife.

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes!
Rosse. So should he look,

That seems to speak things strange.

Enter MACDuff.

Macd. God save the king!

King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Macd. 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, 'gan a dismal conflict:
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd 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 ;-

King. Great happiness!

Macd. That now

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes' 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.

Macd. I'll see it done.

[Exeunt MACDUFF and LENOX. King. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath

won.

[Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt.

SCENE HI.

A Heath.

Thunder and Lightning.

Enter the three WITCHES.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht:-" Give me," quoth I.

"Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the Tyger: 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.

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;

And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know

I'the shipman's card.

I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid :
Weary seven-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.-
Look what I have.

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

3 Witch. A drum, a drum;

Macbeth doth come.

[A March at a Distance.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about.

2 Witch. Thrice to thine,—

3 Witch. And thrice to mine,1 Witch. And thrice again,

All. To make up nine.

1 Witch. Peace;-the charm's wound up.

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, and the Army.

Macb. Command they make a halt upon the heath. [Within.] Halt,-halt,-halt.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores?-What are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;

That look not like the inhabitants o'the earth,
And yet are on't?-Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That

you are so.

Macb. Speak, if you can;-What are you?

1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis !

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!

3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shall be king hereafter.

Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear

Things that do sound so fair? I'the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed,

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 favours, nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail! 2 Witch. Hail!·

3 Witch. Hail!

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be

none.

All. So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo! Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail !

[Going. Macb. 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