Macbeth | Page 5

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 kings.
BANQUO. You shall be king.
MACBETH. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
BANQUO. To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

[Enter Ross and Angus.]
ROSS. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy
success: and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' 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 afeard of what thyself didst
make, Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post with post;
and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defense, And
pour'd them down before him.
ANGUS. We are sent To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; Only
to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee.
ROSS. And, for an earnest of a greater honor, He bade me, from him,
call thee Thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane,
For it is thine.
BANQUO. What, can the devil speak true?
MACBETH. The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In
borrow'd robes?
ANGUS. Who was the Thane lives yet; But under heavy judgement
bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin'd
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and
vantage, or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know
not; But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, Have overthrown him.
MACBETH. [Aside.] 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?
BANQUO. 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's In deepest consequence.-- Cousins, a word, I

pray you.
MACBETH. [Aside.] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the
swelling act Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.-- [Aside.]
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.
BANQUO. Look, how our partner's rapt.
MACBETH. [Aside.] If chance will have me king, why, chance may
crown me Without my stir.
BANQUO. New honors come upon him, Like our strange garments,
cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use.
MACBETH. [Aside.] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs
through the roughest day.
BANQUO. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
MACBETH. Give me your favor:--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, The interim having weigh'd
it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other.
BANQUO. Very gladly.
MACBETH. Till then, enough.--Come, friends.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
[Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, and
Attendants.]
DUNCAN. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in
commission yet return'd?
MALCOLM. 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