Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! let me know
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?

1 Witch. Shew!

[Hautboys.

All. Shew his eyes, and grieve his heart! Come like shadows, so depart.

An Apparition of eight Kings and BANQUO, who pass over in order; the last King bearing a mirror. Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo:

down!

Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls:- and thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first:-
A third is like the former: - Filthy hags!

Why do you shew me this? A fourth? - Start, eyes! What! will the line stretch out to th' crack of doom?

Another yet? A seventh? I'll see no more:
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,
Which shews me many more; and some I see,
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry.
Horrible sight!-Now, I see, 't is true;

For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. - What! is this so?
1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? ·
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,

110 Eight Kings, i. e. Robert II. and III. and James I. to VI. No account is taken of Mary Stuart. (R)

119 two-fold balls and treble sceptres. An allusion to the union of the two islands of Great Britain and

110

120

Ireland, and the three kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland, which took place under James I. (w)

125

121 blood-bolter'd, blood-clotted. sprites, i. e. spirits. Cf. III. v. 27, above, and 1. 153 below. (R)

And shew the best of our delights.
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round;
That this great king may kindly say,

Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Music. The Witches dance, and vanish. Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this per

nicious hour

Stand aye accursed in the calendar! —

Come in! without there!

130

Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride, And damn'd all those that trust them! - I did hear

The galloping of horse: who was 't came by?

Len. "Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England.

Macb.

Len. Ay, my good lord.

Fled to England?

Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :

The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,

Unless the deed go with it. From this moment,

The very firstlings of my heart shall be

The firstlings of my hand. And even now,

To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and

done:

The castle of Macduff I will surprise;

Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' th' sword

143 flighty, fleeting. (R)

140

His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do before this purpose cool:

But no more sprites. - Where are these gentlemen?
Come; bring me where they are.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Fife. A Room in MACDUFF's Castle.

Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and Rosse.

Lady Macduff. What had he done to make him fly

the land?

Rosse. You must have patience, Madam.

L. Macd.

He had none :

His flight was madness. When our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.

Rosse.

You know not

Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his

babes,

His mansion, and his titles, in a place

From whence himself does fly? He loves us not:

He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,

Her
young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear, and nothing is the love:
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.

150

10

in the person of som man that dyed evilly, are called Ghosts, when they terrifie men at other times Sprits," where the edition of 1685 has "when they otherwise affright folk, sights" (p. 326).

7 titles, possessions. (R) 9 natural touch, i. e. natural affection. (R)

Rosse.

My dearest coz,

I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows

The fits o' th' season. I dare not speak much farther:
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors,

And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea,

and move. way

Each
I take leave of
my
Shall not be long but I'll be here again.

you:

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before. My pretty cousin,

Blessing upon you!

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he 's fatherless. Rosse. I am so much a fool, should I stay

longer,

It would be my disgrace and your discomfort.

I take my leave at once.

L. Macd.

[Exit RossE.

30

Sirrah, your father's dead: And what will you do now? How will you live?

Son. As birds do, mother.

L. Macd.

What, with worms and flies ?

Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

L. Macd. Poor bird! thou 'd'st never fear the net,

nor lime,

The pit-fall, nor the gin.

Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are

not set for.

My father is not dead, for all your saying.

15 for, i. e. as for. (R) 17 fits o' th' season, the uncertainties of the time. (R)

19 know ourselves, i. e. know it ourselves. hold rumour, receive a vague apprehension. (R)

22 and move, possibly we should read we move (Gollancz's suggestion). (R)

23 Shall not be long. Supply "I," or "It." (R)

36 they refers to the traps. (R)

L. Macd. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for a

father?

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband?

L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. 40 Son. Then you 'll buy 'em to sell again.

L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit ; And yet, i' faith, with wit enough for thee. Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. Ay, that he was.

Son. What is a traitor ?

L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
Son. And be all traitors that do so?

L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hang'd.

Son. And must they all be hang'd that swear and

lie?

L. Macd. Every one.

Son. Who must hang them?

L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men, and hang up them.

L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?

Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him; if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.

L. Macd. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

Enter a Messenger.

Messenger. Bless you, fair dame. I am not to you

known,

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60