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,
(Impostors to true fear,) would well become
A woman's story, at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
You look but on a stool.
Macb. Pr'ythee, 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 inonuments
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine are blanch'd with fear.
What sights, my lord? Lady M. 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.
Len.
Good night, and better health
Attend his majesty!
Lady M.
A kind good night to all!
[Exeunt Lords and attendants.
Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will
have blood:
Shall be the maws of kites. [Ghost disappears. Stones have been known to move, and trees to
Lady M.
What! quite unmann'd in folly?
Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady M.
Fie, for shame! Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time,
Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out the man would dic,
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 M.
Your noble friends do lack you.
Macb.
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 the general joy of the 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.'
Lords.
Our duties, and the pledge.
Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!
Lady M.
Augurs, and understood relations, have
By magot-pies,' and choughs, and rooks, brought
forth
The secret'st man of blood.-What is the night?
Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which
is which.
Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person, At our great bidding? Lady M. Did you send to him, sir? Mach. I hear it by the way; but I will send : There's not a one of them, but in his house keep a servant feed. I will to-morrow (Betimes I will,) unto the weird sisters:
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.lt/books/content?id=_cxFkXFAjkIC&hl=lt&output=html_text&pg=PA329&img=1&zoom=3&q=%22In+the+cauldron+boil+and+bake+:+Eye+of+newt,+and+toe+of+frog.+Wool+of+bat,+and+tongue%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3vcdJvz_8dFBa_D_-6WrWLfqdJPA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=470,703,11,21)
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
Stept 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 scann'd.'
Lady M. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Mach. 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. SCENE V.-The heath. Thunder. Enter He cate, meeting the three Witches.
1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
Hec. Have I not reason, bedlams, as you are
Think of this, good peers, Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other:
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Mach. What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the 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 inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
[Ghost disappears.
Unreal mockery, hence !-Why, so;-being gone,
I am a man again.-Pray you, sit still.
Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke
the good meeting,
With most admir'd disorder.
Macb.
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,
(1) Sudden gusts. (2) Wonder.
(3) i. e. All good wishes to all. (4) Forbid.
(5) Pass over. (6) Possess. (7) Magpies.
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 call'd 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'the morning; thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels, and your spells, provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside:
I am for the air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal-fatal end.
Great business must be wrought ere noon.
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vaporous drop profound; 10
(8) An individual. (9) Examined nicely.
(10) i. e. A drop that has deep or hidden quali-
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic slights,
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 mortals' chiefest enemy.
Song. [Within.] Come away, come away, &c.
Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
1 Witch. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.
SCENE 1.-A dark cave. In the middle a cal
dron boiling. Thunder. Enter three Witches.
1 Witch, Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
2 Witch. Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.
3 Witch. Harper cries:-'Tis time, 'tis time.
1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go;
SCENE VI.-Fores. A room in the palace. En-In the poison'd entrails throw.
ter Lenox and another Lord.
Len. My former speeches have but hit your
thoughts,
Which can interpret further: only, I say,
Things have been strangely borne: The gracious
Was pitied of Macbeth:-marry, he was dead :-
And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance kill'd,
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? damned 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 anger'd any heart alive,
To hear the men deny it. 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
fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear
Macduff lives in disgrace: Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?
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, on 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 table meat, sleep to our nights;
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives;
Do faithful homage, and receive free honours,1
All which we pine for now: And this report
Hath so exasperate the king, that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.
Lent.
Sent he to Macduff?
Lord. He did: and with an absolute, Sir, not
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums; as who should say, You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer.
Len.
And that well might
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come; that a swift blessing
(1) Honours freely bestowed.
For exasperated.
Toad, that under coldest stone,
Days and nights hast thirty-one
Swelter'd' venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i'the charmed pot!
All. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
2 Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake:
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
All. Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf;
Witches' mummy; maw, and gulf,*
Of the ravin'd' salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock, digg'd i'the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew,
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips
Finger of birth-strangled babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
All. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
2 Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter Hecate, and the other three Witches.
Hec. O, well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i'the gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
SONG.
Black spirits and white,
Red spirits and grey;
Mingle, mingle, mingle,
You that mingle may.
Something wicked this way comes:
2 Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs,
Open, locks, whoever knocks.
Macb. 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 lodg'd,' and trees blown down;
[Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.
Macb.
That will never be;
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfixhis earth-bound root? sweet bodements! good!
Rebellious head, rise never, till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time, and mortal custom.-Yet my heart
trea-Throbs to know one thing; Tell me, (if your art
Can tell so much,) shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?
Seek to know no more.
Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know :-
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
[Hautboys.
Though castles topple3 on their warders' heads;
Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the
1 Witch. Say, if thou'd'st rather hear it from our mouths,
Come, high, or low;
Thyself, and office, deftly show.
Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.
Macb. Tell me, thou unknown power,--
1 Witch.
He knows thy thought;
Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware
Macduff;
Macb. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
Thou hast harp'de my fear aright:-But one word
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls:-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 the crack of
doom ?10
Beware the thane of Fife.-Dismiss me:-Enough. Another yet?-A seventh ?-I'll see no more:-
[Descends. And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,
Which shows me many more; and some I see,
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry :
Horrible sight!-Ay, now, I see, 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd' Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.-What, is this so?
1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so :-But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?.
?-
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights, i
1 Witch. He will not be commanded: Here's another,
More potent than the first.
Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises. And show the best of our delights;
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!-I'll charm the air to give a sound,
App.
Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.
App.
Be bloody, bold,
And resolute: laugh to scorn the power of man,
For none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.
Macb. Then live, Macduff; What need I fear of
thee?
But yet I'll make assurance doubly 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.-What is this,
Macduff is fled to England. Macb.
Len. Ay, my good lord.
Macb. 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 the edge o'the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace 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.
SCENE II.-Fife. A room in Macduff's castle.
Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Rosse.
L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the land?
Rosse. You must have patience, madam. L. Macd. He had none: His flight was madness: When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.❜
You know not,
Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
L. Macd. 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:4 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.
My dearest coz', I pray you, school yourself: But, for your husband, He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o'the season. I dare not speak much
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,
And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour
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 up-
ward
To what they were before.-My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!
L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
Rosse. 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 Rosse.
L. Macd.
Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother.
L. Macd.
What, with worms and flies?
Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
L. Macd. Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net,
nor lime,
The pit-fall, nor the gin.
Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
(1) Preventest, by taking away the opportunity. (2) Follow.
(3) i. e. Our flight is considered as evidence of our treason.
L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i'faith, With wit enough for thee.
Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
L. Macd. Ay, that he was.
Son. What is a traitor?
L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
Son. And be all traitors, that do so?
L. Macd. Every one that does so, is a traitor, and must be hanged.
Son. And must they all be hang'd, that swear and lie?
L. Macd. Every one.
Son. Who must hang them?
L. Macd. Why, the honest men.
Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men, and hang up them.
L. Macd. 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.
L. Macd. Poor prattler! how thou talk'st!
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour 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
dare abide no longer. L. Macd.
I have done no harm.
[Exit Messenger. Whither should I fly ? But I remember now
I am in this earthly world; here, to do harm,
Is often laudable: to do good, sometime,
Accounted dangerous folly: Why then, alas!
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm ?-What are these faces?
Enter Murderers.
Mur. Where is your husband?
Where such as thou may'st find him.
L. Macd. I hope in no place so unsanctified,
Mur.
Son. Thou ly'st, thou shag-ear'd villain. Mur.
What, you egg? [Stabbing him.
He has killed me, mother;
[Exit Lady Macduff, crying murder, and pursued by the Murderers. III.-England.-A room in the King's palace. Enter Malcolm and Macduff. Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.
Mal.
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 tongue,
Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him well;
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but
something
You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb,
To appease an angry god.
Macd. I am not treacherous.
Mal.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
In an imperial charge. But '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
Thy title is affeer'd.'-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.
Mal. 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. Macd. What should he be ? Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know All the particulars of vice so grafted, That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd With my confineless harms."
Macd. Not in the legions Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd In evils, to top Macbeth.
(3) i. e. A good mind may recede from goodness in the execution of a royal commission.
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'er-bear,
That did oppose my will: Better Macbeth,
Than such a one to reign.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The 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 hood-wink.
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 inclin'd.
With this, there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that were I king,
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 anjust against the good, and loyal,"
Destroying them for wealth.
Macd.
This avarice
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeding lust: and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: Yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foysons' to fill up your will,
Of your mere own: All these are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.
Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perséverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound'
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.
O Scotland! Scotland!
Mul. If such a one be fit to govern, speak; I am as I have spoken.
Fit to govern! No, not to live.-O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? Since that the truest issue of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father Was a most sainted king; the queen, that bore thee, Oftner upon her knees than on her feet, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself, Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my breast, Thy hope ends here! Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth By many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his power: and modest wisdom plucks me
(4) Legally settled by those who had the final adjudication. (5) Lascivious. (7) Plenty.
(6) Passionate. (8) May be endured.
|