FLEANCE, Son to Banquo. SIWARD, General of the English Forces. YOUNG SIWARD, his Son. SEYTON, an Officer attending on Macbeth. An English Doctor. A Scots Doctor. A Captain. A Porter. An Old Man. LADY MACBETH. LADY MACDUff. WOMEN. Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants, and Meffengers. The Ghost of Banquo, and several other Apparitions. SCENE, in the end of the fourth Act, lies in England; through the rest of the Play, in Scotland; and chiefly at Macbeth's coftle. ACT I. SCENE I. Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches. I Witch. WHEN fhall we three meet again? 2 Witch. When the hurly burly's done, When the battle's loft and won: 3 Witch. That will be ere the fet of fun. I Witch. Where the place? 2 Witch. Upon the heath: 3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth. I Witch. I come, graymalkin! All. Paddock call Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Anon. Hover through the fog and filthy air. SCENE II. Alarum within. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Captain. King. What bloody man is that! he can report As feemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state. Mal. This is the ferjeant A 2. Who, Who, like a good and hardy foldier, fought Capt. Doubtful it ftood; As two spent swimmers, that do cling together, Like valour's minion, carved out his paffage, And ne'er shook hands, nor bid farewel to him, 'Till he unfeam'd him from the nave to th' chops, And fix'd his head upon our battlements. King. Oh, valiant coufin! worthy gentleman! Capt. As, whence the fun 'gins his reflection, Shipwrecking ftorms and direful thunders break; So, from that fpring whence comfort feem'd to come, Discomfort fwells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels; King. Difmay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo ? Capt. Yes; As As fparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion. Doubly redoubled ftrokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, I cannot tell : But I am faint, my gafhes cry for help, King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds; They fmack of honour both.-Go, get him furgeons. Enter RossE. Who comes here ? Mal. The worthy thane of Roffe. Len. What a hafte looks through his eyes? So should he look, That feems to speak things ftrange. Roffe. God fave the king! King. Whence cam'ft thou, worthy thane? Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, Norway himself, with terrible numbers, The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, King. Great happiness! Roffe. That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves compofition; A 3 Nor |