Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 114

by William Shakespeare


  That clogs me with this answer.’

  Lennox

  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

  May soon return to this our suffering country

  Under a hand accursed!

  Lord

  I’ll send my prayers with him.

  Exeunt

  ACT IV

  SCENE I. A CAVERN. IN THE MIDDLE, A BOILING CAULDRON.

  Thunder. Enter the three Witches

  First Witch

  Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.

  Second Witch

  Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

  Third Witch

  Harpier cries ’Tis time, ’tis time.

  First Witch

  Round about the cauldron go;

  In the poison’d entrails throw.

  Toad, that under cold stone

  Days and nights has 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.

  Second 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.

  Third 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

  Silver’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.

  Second Witch

  Cool it with a baboon’s blood,

  Then the charm is firm and good.

  Enter Hecate to the other three Witches

  Hecate

  O well done! I commend your pains;

  And every one shall share i’ the gains;

  And now about the cauldron sing,

  Live elves and fairies in a ring,

  Enchanting all that you put in.

  Music and a song: ‘Black spirits,’ & c

  Hecate retires

  Second Witch

  By the pricking of my thumbs,

  Something wicked this way comes.

  Open, locks,

  Whoever knocks!

  Enter Macbeth

  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.

  First Witch

  Speak.

  Second Witch

  Demand.

  Third Witch

  We’ll answer.

  First Witch

  Say, if thou’dst 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.

  Descends

  Macbeth

  Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;

  Thou hast harp’d 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!

  Macbeth

  Had I three ears, I’ld hear thee.

  Second Apparition

  Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn

  The power 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 vanquish’d 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!

  Rebellion’s head, 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 cauldron? and what noise is this?

  Hautboys

  First Witch

  Show!

  Second Witch

  Show!

  Third Witch

  Show!

  All

  Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;

  Come like shadows, so depart!

  A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; Ghost Of Banquo following

  Macbeth
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  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!

  Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!

  What, will the line stretch out to the 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 two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:

  Horrible sight! Now, I see, ’tis true;

  For the blood-bolter’d Banquo smiles upon me,

  And points at them for his.

  Apparitions vanish

  What, is this so?

  First Witch

  Ay, sir, all this is so: but 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 then vanish, with Hecate

  Macbeth

  Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour

  Stand aye accursed in the calendar!

  Come in, without there!

  Enter Lennox

  Lennox

  What’s your grace’s will?

  Macbeth

  Saw you the weird sisters?

  Lennox

  No, my lord.

  Macbeth

  Came they not by you?

  Lennox

  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?

  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

  Time, thou anticipatest 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 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

  SCENE II. FIFE. MACDUFF’S CASTLE.

  Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross

  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’ the 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,

  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

  Father’d 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

  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’ldst 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.

  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 hanged.

  Son

  And must they all be hanged 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 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’ld 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!

  Enter a Messenger

  Messenger

  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 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

  I
s 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?

  Enter Murderers

  What are these faces?

  First Murderer

  Where is your husband?

  Lady Macduff

  I hope, in no place so unsanctified

  Where such as thou mayst find him.

  First Murderer

  He’s a traitor.

  Son

  Thou liest, thou shag-hair’d villain!

  First Murderer

  What, you egg!

  Stabbing him

  Young fry of treachery!

  Son

  He has kill’d me, mother:

  Run away, I pray you!

  Dies

  Exit Lady Macduff, crying ‘Murder!’ Exeunt Murderers, following her

  SCENE III. ENGLAND. BEFORE THE KING’S PALACE.

  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 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.

  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 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.

  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 dishonours,

  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 cheque thee: wear thou thy wrongs;

  The title is affeer’d! Fare thee well, lord:

 

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