The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 345
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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. –
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Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
[Hautboys.]
1 WITCH Show!
2 WITCH Show!
3 WITCH Show!
ALL Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
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Come like shadows, so depart.
A show of eight kings, the last with a glass in his hand;
BANQUO following.
MACBETH
Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
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!
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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,
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That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry.
Horrible sight! – 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
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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;
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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 accursed in the calendar! –
Come in, without there!
Enter LENOX.
LENOX What’s your Grace’s will?
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MACBETH Saw you the Weïrd Sisters?
LENOX No, my Lord.
MACBETH Came they not by you?
LENOX No, indeed, my Lord.
MACBETH Infected be the air whereon they ride;
And damn’d all those that trust them! – I did hear
The galloping of horse: who was’t came by?
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LENOX
’Tis two or three, my Lord, that bring you word,
Macduff is fled to England.
MACBETH Fled to England?
LENOX Ay, my good Lord.
MACBETH [aside]
Time, thou anticipat’st my dread exploits:
The flighty purpose never is o’ertook,
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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;
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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?
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Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt.
4.2 Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son and ROSSE.
LADY MACDUFF
What had he done, to make him fly the land?
ROSSE 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.
ROSSE You know not,
Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
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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 diminitive of birds, will fight,
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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.
ROSSE My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
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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 rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
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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,
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Blessing upon you!
LADY MACDUFF 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.
LADY MACDUFF Sirrah, your father’s dead:
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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 pit-fall, nor the gin.
SON Why should I, mother?
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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.
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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.
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SON What is a traitor?
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 hang’d.
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SON And must they all be hang’d that swear and lie?
LADY MACDUFF Every one.
SON Who must hang them?
LADY MACDUFF Why, the honest men.
SON Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are
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liars and swearers enow to beat 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
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not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a
new father.
LADY MACDUFF Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect
.
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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,
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Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer. Exit.
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
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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.
1 MURDERER Where is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF I hope, in no place so unsanctified,
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Where such as thou may’st find him.
1 MURDERER He’s a traitor.
SON Thou liest, thou shag-hair’d villain!
1 MURDERER What, you egg!
[stabbing him] Young fry of treachery!
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SON He has kill’d me, mother:
Run away, I pray you! [Dies.]
Exit Lady Macduff, crying ‘ Murther! ’
and pursued by the Murderers.
4.3 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 downfall birthdom. Each new morn,
New widows howl, new orphans cry; new sorrows
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Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell’d out
Like syllable of dolour.
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.
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What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
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
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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:
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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.
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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 dishonours,
But mine own safeties: you may be rightly just,
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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 affeer’d! – Fare thee well, Lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think’st
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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
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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,
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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?