 | Macbeth |  |
5
ACT. I.
SCENE I.
The open Country.Thunder and Lightning.
Enter three Witches.
1 Witch.
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
2 Witch.
When the hurly burly's done,
When the battle's lost and won
3 Witch.
That will be ere set of sun.
1 Witch.
Where the place?
2 Witch.
Upon the heath.
3 Witch.
There to meet with—
1 Witch.
Whom?
2 Witch.
Macbeth.
1 Witch.
I come, Graymalkin.
2 Witch.
Paddock calls.
3 Witch.
Anon.
All.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Thunder and Lightning. Exeunt.
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SCENE II.
The Palace at Fores.Flourish of Trumpets. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Rosse, Lenox, with Attendants, meeting bleeding Serjeant.
King.
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.
Mal.
This is the serjeant,
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
'Gainst my captivity: Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou did'st leave it.
Serj.
Doubtfully it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
From the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallow-glasses is supplied;
And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Shew'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smoak'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion, carved out his passage,
'Till he fac'd the slave:
And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewel to him,
'Till he unseamed him from the nave to the chops,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
King.
Oh, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Serj.
Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd,
Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels
But the Norweyan lord, surveying 'vantage,
With furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.
King.
Dismay'd not this
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Serj.
Yes;
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion—
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
King.
So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
They smack of honour both:—Go, get him surgeons.
Exeunt Serjeant and an attendant.
Who comes here?
Ros.
The worthy thane of Fife.
Len.
What a haste looks through his eyes!
Enter Macduff.
Macd.
Heaven save the king!
King.
Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Macd.
From Fife, great king,
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.
Norway himself, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, 'gan a dismal conflict:
'Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof,
Confronted him with self comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us;—
King.
Great happiness!
Macd.
That now
Sweno, the Norway's king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
'Till he disbursed, at St. Colmes' Inch,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
King.
No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest—Go, pronounce his present death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
Macd.
I'll see it done.
King.
What he hath lost, noble Macbeth has won.
Flourish. Exeunt.
8
SCENE III.
A Heath.Thunder and Lightning.
Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch.
Where hast thou been, sister?
2 Witch.
Killing Swine.
3 Witch.
Sister, where thou?
1 Witch.
A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap,
And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht:—Give me, quoth I.
Aroint thee, Witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the Tyger:
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
2 Witch.
I'll give thee a wind.
1 Witch.
Thou art kind.
3 Witch.
And I another.
1 Witch.
I myself have all the other;
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid,
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary seven-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest tost.
Look what I have.
2 Witch.
Shew me, shew me.
1 Witch.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.
Drum within.
3 Witch.
A drum, a drum;
Macbeth doth come.
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The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about.
2 Witch.
Thrice to thine.
3 Witch.
And thrice to mine.
1 Witch.
And thrice again.
All.
To make up nine.
1 Witch.
Peace! the charm's wound up.
A March.
Enter Macbeth, Banquo and the Army.
Mac.
Command they make a halt upon the heath.
Within.—Halt, Halt.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban.
How far is't called to Fores?—What are these
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire;
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't?—Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips:—You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
Mac.
Speak, if you can;—what are you?
1 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!
2 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!
3 Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.
Ban.
Good Sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?—I' the name of truth,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye shew? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,
10
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say, which grain will grow, and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.
1 Witch.
Hail!
2 Witch.
Hail!
3 Witch.
Hail!
1 Witch.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
2 Witch.
Not so happy, yet much happier.
3 Witch.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
All.
Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail!
Mac.
Stay; you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and, to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetick greeting?—Speak, I charge you.
Exeunt Witches.
Ban.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them:—whither are they vanish'd?
Mac.
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted,
As breath, into the wind—'Would they had staid!
Ban.
Were such things here, as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?
Mac.
Your children shall be kings.
Ban.
You shall be king.
Mac.
And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban.
To the self-same tune, and words. Who's here?
11
Macd.
The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success; and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebel's fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his: Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afear'd of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Len.
We are sent,
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.
Macd.
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
Ban.
What, can the devil speak true?
Mac.
The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you
Dress me in borrow'd robes?
Macd.
Who was the thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deserves to lose;
For treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.
Mac.
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind—Thanks for your pains.—
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?
12
That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.—Cousins, a word I pray you.
Mac.
Two Truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme. I thank you, Gentleman.
This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good:—If ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,
But what is not.
Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Mac.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
Without my stir.
Ban.
New honours come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould,
But with the aid of use.
Mac.
Come what come may;
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Ban.
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure
Mac.
Give me your favour:—my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are register'd where every day I turn
The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the king.—
Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time
13
Our free hearts each to other.
Ban.
Very gladly.
Mac.
Till then, enough.—Come, friends.
A March. Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The Palace at Fores.Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Rosse, and Attendants.
King.
Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?
Mal.
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he dy'd
As one that hath been studied, in his death
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.
King.
There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.—O worthiest cousin!
Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Macduff, and Lenox.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompence is slow
To overtake thee. Would thou hast less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
14
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Mac.
The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne, and state, children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe towards your love and honour.
King.
Welcome hither;
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing.—Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me enfold thee,
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban.
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
King.
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.—Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter,
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not, unaccompanied, invest him only.
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers.—From hence to Inverness,
And bind us farther to you.
Mac.
The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you:
I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
King.
My worthy Cawdor!
Mac.
The prince of Cumberland!—That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'er leap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires:
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Exit.
15
True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman.
Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE V.
A Room in Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter.
They met me in the day of success; and I have
learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them
than mortal knowledge. When I burn'd in desire to question
them further, they made themselves—air, into which they
vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came
missives from the king, who all-hail'd me, Thane of
Cawdor; by which title before, these weird sisters saluted
me, and referr'd me to the coming on of time, with,
Hail, king that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver
thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou
might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of
what greatness is promis'd thee. Lay it to thy heart, and
farewell.
What thou art promis'd:—Yet do I fear thy nature
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way: thou would'st be great;
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly,
That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false,
And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
And that which rather thou do'st fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I my pour my spirits in thine ear;
16
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.—
Enter Seyton.
What is your tidings?
Sey.
The king comes here to-night.
Lady.
Thou'rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him? who, wer't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.
Sey.
So please you, it is true; our thane is coming;
One of my fellows had the speed of him;
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his message.
Lady.
Give him tending,
He brings great news.
Exit Seyton.
The raven himself is hoarse.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell:
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold!—
Enter Macbeth.
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.
17
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
Lady.
And when goes hence?
Mac.
To-morrow, as he purposes.
Lady.
Oh, never
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters:—To beguile the time
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flow'r
But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Mac.
We will speak further.
Lady.
Only look up clear:
To alter favour ever is to fear;
Leave all the rest to me.
Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
The Gate of Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, and Attendants.
King.
This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
Ban.
This guest of summer,
The temple haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
Butteress, nor coigne of 'vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd,
The air is delicate.
18
King.
See, see! our honour'd hostess!—
The love that follows us, sometimes is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you,
How you shall bid heaven yield us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble.
Lady.
All our service
In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business, to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house; for those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
We rest your hermits.
King.
Where's the thane of Cawdor?
We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us: fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.
Lady.
Your servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.
King.
Give me your hand:
Conduct me to mine host; we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.
Flourish. Exeunt
SCENE VII.
A Room in Macbeth's Castle at Inverness.Enter Macbeth.
Mac.
If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well.
It were done quickly, if the assassination
19
With his surcease, success. That but this blow
Might be the all and the end-all here;
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time!
We'd jump the life to come—But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed Justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongu'd, against
The deep damnation of his taking off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind.—I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other—How now! what news?
Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady.
He has almost supp'd; why have you left the chamber?
Mac.
Hath he ask'd for me?
Lady.
Know you not, he has?
Mac.
We will proceed no further in this business:
He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
20
Not cast aside so soon.
Lady.
Was the hope drunk,
Wherein you drest yourself; hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? from this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afear'd
To be the same in thine own act and valour
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem;
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i'the adage?
Mac.
Pr'ythee, peace:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
Lady.
What beast was it then,
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place,
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given suck; and know
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you
Have done, to this.
Mac.
If we should fail,—
Lady.
We fail.—
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him, his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassel so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep
21
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spungy officers; who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?
Mac.
Bring forth men-children only!
For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers,
That they have done't?
Lady.
Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?
Mac.
I am settled, and bend up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Exeunt.
| Macbeth | |