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.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them: Whither are they vanish'd?
Macb. Into the air and what seem'd corporal, melteo
As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid!
Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?

that wh produces insan by

Mach. Your children shall be kings.
Ban.
You shall be king.
Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who's here?

Enter ROSSE and ANGUS.

Rosse. 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 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 defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Ang.

We are sent,
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.

Rosse. 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?

Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes ?

Ang.

Who was the thane, lives yet ;;

But under heavy judgment 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 wrack, I know not;

But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb.

Mardonvaid.

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?

Ban.
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.

Macb.

Two truths are told,

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.—
This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good :-If ill,

Why hath it given me carnest 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 murther yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smothered in surmise; and nothing is

But what is not.

Ban.

Look, how our partner's rapt.

Mach. 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.

Macb.

Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Mach. Give me your favour:

me

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.

Ban.

Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, and
Attendants.

Dun. 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 died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

Dun.

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, ROSSE, and ANGUS.

The sin of my ingratitude even now

Was heavy on me: Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow

To overtake thee. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd;
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macb. 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 everything sure regard to

Safe toward your love and honour.

Dun

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.

The harvest is your own.
Dun.

There if I grow,

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves

My plenteous joys,

set's

In drops of sorrow.-Sons, kinsmen, thanes,

mcriase

And you whose places are the nearest, know, the succession t

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 further to you.

Macb. 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.

Dun.

My worthy Cawdor!

Mach. 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.

Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant ;
And in his commendations I am fed ;

Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome :

It is a peerless kinsman.

[Aside.

[Exit.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Inverness. A Room in Macbeth's Castle.

Enter Lady MACBETH, reading a letter.

Lady M. 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 burned 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-hailed me, "Thane of Cawdor;" by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred 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 mightest not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.'

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be

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 wouldst be great;

Art not without ambition; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,

And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou 'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it :
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,

Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

To have thee crown'd withal.-What is your tidings?

Enter an Attendant.

Attend. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M.

Thou 'rt mad to say it :

Is not thy master with him? who, wer 't so,
Would have inform'd for preparation.

Attend. 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 M.
He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse

Give him tending,

[Exit Attendant.

murderous

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 murthering 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!'-Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!

Enter MACBETH.

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.

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 flower,
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 despatch:
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.