Complete Plays, The
Page 114
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
/>
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: