Macbeth | Page 4

Golgotha, I cannot tell:-- But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.
DUNCAN. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honor both.--Go, get him surgeons.
[Exit Soldier, attended.]
Who comes here?
MALCOLM. The worthy Thane of Ross.
LENNOX. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange.
[Enter Ross.]
ROSS. God save the King!
DUNCAN. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
ROSS. 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, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd 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.
DUNCAN. Great happiness!
ROSS. That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme's-inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
DUNCAN. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest:--go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth.
ROSS. I'll see it done.
DUNCAN. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. A heath.
[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.]
FIRST WITCH. Where hast thou been, sister?
SECOND WITCH. Killing swine.
THIRD WITCH. Sister, where thou?
FIRST WITCH. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd:--"Give me," quoth I: "Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: 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.
SECOND WITCH. I'll give thee a wind.
FIRST WITCH. Thou art kind.
THIRD WITCH. And I another.
FIRST 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.
SECOND WITCH. Show me, show me.
FIRST WITCH. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
[Drum within.]
THIRD WITCH. A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.
ALL. The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine:-- Peace!--the charm's wound up.
[Enter Macbeth and Banquo.]
MACBETH. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
BANQUO. How far is't call'd to Forres?--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 chappy finger laying Upon her skinny lips:--you should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.
MACBETH. Speak, if you can;--what are you?
FIRST WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
SECOND WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
THIRD WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter!
BANQUO. 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 show? My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal:--to me you speak not: 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 favors nor your hate.
FIRST WITCH. Hail!
SECOND WITCH. Hail!
THIRD WITCH. Hail!
FIRST WITCH. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
SECOND WITCH. Not so happy, yet much happier.
THIRD WITCH. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
FIRST WITCH. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
MACBETH. 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 prophetic greeting?--Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish.]
BANQUO. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them:--whither are they vanish'd?
MACBETH. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the wind.--Would they had stay'd!
BANQUO. Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?
MACBETH. Your children shall be