Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

Macb.

Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,

When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse.

What sights, my lord?

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and

worse;

Question enrages him: at once, good night:

Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.
Len.

Good night, and better health

Attend his Majesty!
Lady M.

A kind good night to all!
[Exeunt Lords and Attendants.

Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will have

blood:

Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.-What is the night?

Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his

person,

At our great bidding?

Lady M.

Did you send to him, sir?
Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send :
There's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant feed. I will to-morrow
(Betimes I will), unto the weird sisters:

More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means the worst: for mine own good,
All causes shall give way; I am in blood

Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann❜d.

Lady M. You lack the season of all natures, sleep. Macb. Come, we'll to sleep: My strange and self

abuse

Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:

We are yet but young in deed.

SCENE V. The Heath.

[Exeunt.

Thunder. Enter HECATE, meeting the three Witches.
1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
Hec. Have I not reason, beldams, as you are,
Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth,

In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful, and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: Get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron,

Meet me i'the morning; thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels, and your spells, provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside:
I am for the air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal fatal end.

Great business must be wrought ere noon :
Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic slights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion:

D

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security

Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

Song. [Within] Come away, come away, &c. Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see,

1 Witch. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

again.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. FORES. A Room in the Palace.

Enter LENOX and another Lord.

Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret further: only, I say,

Things have been strangely borne: The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth:-marry, he was dead :-
And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance kill'd,
For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
It was for Malcolm, and for Donalbain,
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,

That were the slaves of drink, and thralls of sleep?
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive,
To hear the men deny it. So that, I say,
He has borne all things well! and I do think,
That, had he Duncan's sons under his key

(As, an't please heaven, he shall not), they should find What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.

But, peace! for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,

Macduff lives in disgrace: Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?

Lord.
The son of Duncan,
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court; and is receiv'd

Of the most pious Edward with such grace,
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect: Thither Macduff
gone to pray the holy king, on his aid

Is

To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward:
That by the help of these (with Him above
To ratify the work), we may again

Give to our table meat, sleep to our nights;
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives;
Do faithful homage, and receive free honours,
All which we pine for now: And this report
Hath so exasperate the king, that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.

Len.

Sent he to Macduff?

Lord. He did: and with an absolute, Sir, not 1,
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,

And hums; as who should say, You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer.

Len.
And that well might
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come; that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering country
Under a hand accurs'd!

Lord.

My prayers with him!

[Exeunt.

A dark Cave. In the middle a Cauldron boiling.

Thunder. Enter three Witches.

1 Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. 2 Witch. Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd. 3 Witch. Harper cries:-'Tis time, 'tis time. 1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go; In the poison'd entrails throw.Toad, that under coldest stone, Days and nights hast thirty-one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i'the charmed pot! All. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble. 2 Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake: Eye of newt, and toe of frog, ool of bat, and tongue of dog,