 | Macbeth |  |
SCENE II.
A Health.Thunder and Lightning.
Enter several Witches.
1 Witch.
Speak, sister, speak,—is the deed done?
2 Witch.
Long ago, long ago;
Above twelve glasses since have run.
3 Witch.
Ill deeds are seldom slow,
Nor single; following crimes on former wait;
The worst of creatures fastest propagate.
Chor.
Many more murders must this one ensue;
Dread horrors still abound,
And every place surround,
As if in death were found
Propagation too.
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He must,—
2 Witch.
He shall,—
3 Witch.
He will spill much more blood,
And become worse, to make his title good.
Chor.
He must, he will spill much more blood,
And become worse, to make his title good.
1 Witch.
Now let's dance.
2 Witch.
Agreed.
3 Witch.
Agreed.
Chor.
We should rejoice when good kings bleed.
1 Witch.
When cattle die, about we go;
When lightning and dread thunder
Rend stubborn rocks in sunder,
And fill the world with wonder,
What should we do?
Chor.
Rejoice, we should rejoice.
2 Witch.
When winds and waves are warring,
Earthquakes the mountains tearing,
And monarchs die despairing,
What should we do?
Chor.
Rejoice, we should rejoice.
3 Witch.
Let's have a dance upon the heath,
We gain more life by Duncan's death.
1 Witch.
Sometimes like brinded cats we shew,
Having no music but our mew,
To which we dance in some old mill,
Upon the hopper, stone, or wheel,
To some old saw, or bardish rhime,—
Chor.
Where still the mill-clack does keep time.
2 Witch.
Sometimes about a hollow tree,
Around, around, around dance we;
Thither the chirping cricket comes,
And beetles singing drowsy hums;
Sometimes we dance o'er fernes or furze,
To howls of wolves, or barks of curs;
And when with none of these we meet,—
Chor.
We dance, to th'echoes of our feet.
3 Witch.
At the night-raven's dismal voice,
When others tremble we rejoice.
Chor.
And nimbly, nimbly, dance we still,
To th'echoes from a hollow hill.
Exeunt.
| Macbeth | |