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Subject [17/33] CRUNCH-8: Moving the code into multiple Maven modules. Contributed by Matthias Friedrich
Date Wed, 11 Jul 2012 05:14:46 GMT
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+***The Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio***
+********************The Tragedie of Macbeth*********************
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+The Tragedie of Macbeth
+by William Shakespeare
+July, 2000  [Etext #2264]
+***The Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio***
+********************The Tragedie of Macbeth*********************
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+Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's The Tragedie of Macbeth
+Executive Director's Notes:
+In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
+the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
+been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
+are presented herein:
+  Barnardo. Who's there?
+  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
+your selfe
+   Bar. Long liue the King
+As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
+or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
+original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
+to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
+that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
+above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
+Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .
+The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
+time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
+place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
+as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
+more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.
+You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
+have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
+extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
+very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
+assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
+in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
+purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
+. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
+that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
+variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
+for signing his name with several different spellings.
+So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
+made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
+that are "not" errors. . . .
+So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,
+here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The Tragedie 
+of Macbeth.
+Michael S. Hart
+Project Gutenberg
+Executive Director
+Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
+a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
+come in ASCII to the printed text.
+The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
+conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
+punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
+printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
+together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
+Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
+spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
+abbreviations as I have come across them.  Everything within
+brackets [] is what I have added.  So if you don't like that
+you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
+purer Shakespeare.
+Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
+differences between various copies of the first folio.  So there may
+be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
+this and other first folio editions.  This is due to the printer's
+habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
+then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
+continuing the printing run.  The proof run wasn't thrown away but
+incorporated into the printed copies.  This is just the way it is.
+The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
+First Folio editions' best pages.
+If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
+errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel
+free to email me those errors.  I wish to make this the best
+etext possible.  My email address for right now are
+and  I hope that you enjoy this.
+David Reed
+The Tragedie of Macbeth
+Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
+Thunder and Lightning. Enter three Witches.
+  1. When shall we three meet againe?
+In Thunder, Lightning, or in Raine?
+  2. When the Hurley-burley's done,
+When the Battaile's lost, and wonne
+   3. That will be ere the set of Sunne
+   1. Where the place?
+  2. Vpon the Heath
+   3. There to meet with Macbeth
+   1. I come, Gray-Malkin
+   All. Padock calls anon: faire is foule, and foule is faire,
+Houer through the fogge and filthie ayre.
+Scena Secunda.
+Alarum within. Enter King Malcome, Donalbaine, Lenox, with
+meeting a bleeding Captaine.
+  King. What bloody man is that? he can report,
+As seemeth by his plight, of the Reuolt
+The newest state
+   Mal. This is the Serieant,
+Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought
+'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend;
+Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle,
+As thou didst leaue it
+   Cap. Doubtfull it stood,
+As two spent Swimmers, that doe cling together,
+And choake their Art: The mercilesse Macdonwald
+(Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that
+The multiplying Villanies of Nature
+Doe swarme vpon him) from the Westerne Isles
+Of Kernes and Gallowgrosses is supply'd,
+And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling,
+Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake:
+For braue Macbeth (well hee deserues that Name)
+Disdayning Fortune, with his brandisht Steele,
+Which smoak'd with bloody execution
+(Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his passage,
+Till hee fac'd the Slaue:
+Which neu'r shooke hands, nor bad farwell to him,
+Till he vnseam'd him from the Naue toth' Chops,
+And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements
+   King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman
+   Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection,
+Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders:
+So from that Spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
+Discomfort swells: Marke King of Scotland, marke,
+No sooner Iustice had, with Valour arm'd,
+Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heeles,
+But the Norweyan Lord, surueying vantage,
+With furbusht Armes, and new supplyes of men,
+Began a fresh assault
+   King. Dismay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and
+  Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles;
+Or the Hare, the Lyon:
+If I say sooth, I must report they were
+As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks,
+So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe:
+Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds,
+Or memorize another Golgotha,
+I cannot tell: but I am faint,
+My Gashes cry for helpe
+   King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds,
+They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons.
+Enter Rosse and Angus.
+Who comes here?
+  Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse
+   Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes?
+So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange
+   Rosse. God saue the King
+   King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
+  Rosse. From Fiffe, great King,
+Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie,
+And fanne our people cold.
+Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers,
+Assisted by that most disloyall Traytor,
+The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict,
+Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe,
+Confronted him with selfe-comparisons,
+Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme,
+Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude,
+The Victorie fell on vs
+   King. Great happinesse
+   Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King,
+Craues composition:
+Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men,
+Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes ynch,
+Ten thousand Dollars, to our generall vse
+   King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue
+Our Bosome interest: Goe pronounce his present death,
+And with his former Title greet Macbeth
+   Rosse. Ile see it done
+   King. What he hath lost, Noble Macbeth hath wonne.
+Scena Tertia.
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
+  1. Where hast thou beene, Sister?
+  2. Killing Swine
+   3. Sister, where thou?
+  1. A Saylors Wife had Chestnuts in her Lappe,
+And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht:
+Giue me, quoth I.
+Aroynt thee, Witch, the rumpe-fed Ronyon cryes.
+Her Husband's to Aleppo gone, Master o'th' Tiger:
+But in a Syue Ile thither sayle,
+And like a Rat without a tayle,
+Ile doe, Ile doe, and Ile doe
+   2. Ile giue thee a Winde
+   1. Th'art kinde
+   3. And I another
+   1. I my selfe haue all the other,
+And the very Ports they blow,
+All the Quarters that they know,
+I'th' Ship-mans Card.
+Ile dreyne him drie as Hay:
+Sleepe shall neyther Night nor Day
+Hang vpon his Pent-house Lid:
+He shall liue a man forbid:
+Wearie Seu'nights, nine times nine,
+Shall he dwindle, peake, and pine:
+Though his Barke cannot be lost,
+Yet it shall be Tempest-tost.
+Looke what I haue
+   2. Shew me, shew me
+   1. Here I haue a Pilots Thumbe,
+Wrackt, as homeward he did come.
+Drum within.
+  3. A Drumme, a Drumme:
+Macbeth doth come
+   All. The weyward Sisters, hand in hand,
+Posters of the Sea and Land,
+Thus doe goe, about, about,
+Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
+And thrice againe, to make vp nine.
+Peace, the Charme's wound vp.
+Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
+  Macb. So foule and faire a day I haue not seene
+   Banquo. How farre is't call'd to Soris? What are these,
+So wither'd, and so wilde in their attyre,
+That looke not like th' Inhabitants o'th' Earth,
+And yet are on't? Liue you, or are you aught
+That man may question? you seeme to vnderstand me,
+By each at once her choppie finger laying
+Vpon her skinnie Lips: you should be Women,
+And yet your Beards forbid me to interprete
+That you are so
+   Mac. Speake if you can: what are you?
+  1. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Glamis
+   2. All haile Macbeth, haile to thee Thane of Cawdor
+   3. All haile Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter
+   Banq. Good Sir, why doe you start, and seeme to feare
+Things that doe sound so faire? i'th' name of truth
+Are ye fantasticall, or that indeed
+Which outwardly ye shew? My Noble Partner
+You greet with present Grace, and great prediction
+Of Noble hauing, and of Royall hope,
+That he seemes wrapt withall: to me you speake not.
+If you can looke into the Seedes of Time,
+And say, which Graine will grow, and which will not,
+Speake then to me, who neyther begge, nor feare
+Your fauors, nor your hate
+   1. Hayle
+   2. Hayle
+   3. Hayle
+   1. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater
+   2. Not so happy, yet much happyer
+   3. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none:
+So all haile Macbeth, and Banquo
+   1. Banquo, and Macbeth, all haile
+   Macb. Stay you imperfect Speakers, tell me more:
+By Sinells death, I know I am Thane of Glamis,
+But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor liues
+A prosperous Gentleman: And to be King,
+Stands not within the prospect of beleefe,
+No more then to be Cawdor. Say from whence
+You owe this strange Intelligence, or why
+Vpon this blasted Heath you stop our way
+With such Prophetique greeting?
+Speake, I charge you.
+Witches vanish.
+  Banq. The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water ha's,
+And these are of them: whither are they vanish'd?
+  Macb. Into the Ayre: and what seem'd corporall,
+Melted, as breath into the Winde.
+Would they had stay'd
+   Banq. Were such things here, as we doe speake about?
+Or haue we eaten on the insane Root,
+That takes the Reason Prisoner?
+  Macb. Your Children shall be Kings
+   Banq. You shall be King
+   Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
+  Banq. Toth' selfe-same tune and words: who's here?
+Enter Rosse and Angus.
+  Rosse. The King hath happily receiu'd, Macbeth,
+The newes of thy successe: and when he reades
+Thy personall Venture in the Rebels sight,
+His Wonders and his Prayses doe contend,
+Which should be thine, or his: silenc'd with that,
+In viewing o're the rest o'th' selfe-same day,
+He findes thee in the stout Norweyan Rankes,
+Nothing afeard of what thy selfe didst make
+Strange Images of death, as thick as Tale
+Can post with post, and euery one did beare
+Thy prayses in his Kingdomes great defence,
+And powr'd them downe before him
+   Ang. Wee are sent,
+To giue thee from our Royall Master thanks,
+Onely to harrold thee into his sight,
+Not pay thee
+   Rosse. And for an earnest of a greater Honor,
+He bad me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
+In which addition, haile most worthy Thane,
+For it is thine
+   Banq. What, can the Deuill speake true?
+  Macb. The Thane of Cawdor liues:
+Why doe you dresse me in borrowed Robes?
+  Ang. Who was the Thane, liues yet,
+But vnder heauie Iudgement beares that Life,
+Which he deserues to loose.
+Whether he was combin'd with those of Norway,
+Or did lyne the Rebell with hidden helpe,
+And vantage; or that with both he labour'd
+In his Countreyes wracke, I know not:
+But Treasons Capitall, confess'd, and prou'd,
+Haue ouerthrowne him
+   Macb. Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor:
+The greatest is behinde. Thankes for your paines.
+Doe you not hope your Children shall be Kings,
+When those that gaue the Thane of Cawdor to me,
+Promis'd no lesse to them
+   Banq. That trusted home,
+Might yet enkindle you vnto the Crowne,
+Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
+And oftentimes, to winne vs to our harme,
+The Instruments of Darknesse tell vs Truths,
+Winne vs with honest Trifles, to betray's
+In deepest consequence.
+Cousins, a word, I pray you
+   Macb. Two Truths are told,
+As happy Prologues to the swelling Act
+Of the Imperiall Theame. I thanke you Gentlemen:
+This supernaturall solliciting
+Cannot be ill; cannot be good.
+If ill? why hath it giuen me earnest of successe,
+Commencing in a Truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.
+If good? why doe I yeeld to that suggestion,
+Whose horrid Image doth vnfixe my Heire,
+And make my seated Heart knock at my Ribbes,
+Against the vse of Nature? Present Feares
+Are lesse then horrible Imaginings:
+My Thought, whose Murther yet is but fantasticall,
+Shakes so my single state of Man,
+That Function is smother'd in surmise,
+And nothing is, but what is not
+   Banq. Looke how our Partner's rapt
+   Macb. If Chance will haue me King,
+Why Chance may Crowne me,
+Without my stirre
+   Banq. New Honors come vpon him
+Like our strange Garments, cleaue not to their mould,
+But with the aid of vse
+   Macb. Come what come may,
+Time, and the Houre, runs through the roughest Day
+   Banq. Worthy Macbeth, wee stay vpon your leysure
+   Macb. Giue me your fauour:
+My dull Braine was wrought with things forgotten.
+Kinde Gentlemen, your paines are registred,
+Where euery day I turne the Leafe,
+To reade them.
+Let vs toward the King: thinke vpon
+What hath chanc'd: and at more time,
+The Interim hauing weigh'd it, let vs speake
+Our free Hearts each to other
+   Banq. Very gladly
+   Macb. Till then enough:
+Come friends.
+Scena Quarta.
+Flourish. Enter King, Lenox, Malcolme, Donalbaine, and
+  King. Is execution done on Cawdor?
+Or not those in Commission yet return'd?
+  Mal. My Liege, they are not yet come back.
+But I haue spoke with one that saw him die:
+Who did report, that very frankly hee
+Confess'd his Treasons, implor'd your Highnesse Pardon,
+And set forth a deepe Repentance:
+Nothing in his Life became him,
+Like the leauing it. Hee dy'de,
+As one that had beene studied in his death,
+To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
+As 'twere a carelesse Trifle
+   King. There's no Art,
+To finde the Mindes construction in the Face.
+He was a Gentleman, on whom I built
+An absolute Trust.
+Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Rosse, and Angus.
+O worthyest Cousin,
+The sinne of my Ingratitude euen now
+Was heauie on me. Thou art so farre before,
+That swiftest Wing of Recompence is slow,
+To ouertake thee. Would thou hadst lesse deseru'd,
+That the proportion both of thanks, and payment,
+Might haue beene mine: onely I haue left to say,
+More is thy due, then more then all can pay
+   Macb. The seruice, and the loyaltie I owe,
+In doing it, payes it selfe.
+Your Highnesse part, is to receiue our Duties:
+And our Duties are to your Throne, and State,
+Children, and Seruants; which doe but what they should,
+By doing euery thing safe toward your Loue
+And Honor
+   King. Welcome hither:
+I haue begun to plant thee, and will labour
+To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
+That hast no lesse deseru'd, nor must be knowne
+No lesse to haue done so: Let me enfold thee,
+And hold thee to my Heart
+   Banq. There if I grow,
+The Haruest is your owne
+   King. My plenteous Ioyes,
+Wanton in fulnesse, seeke to hide themselues
+In drops of sorrow. Sonnes, Kinsmen, Thanes,
+And you whose places are the nearest, know,
+We will establish our Estate vpon
+Our eldest, Malcolme, whom we name hereafter,
+The Prince of Cumberland: which Honor must
+Not vnaccompanied, inuest him onely,
+But signes of Noblenesse, like Starres, shall shine
+On all deseruers. From hence to Envernes,
+And binde vs further to you
+   Macb. The Rest is Labor, which is not vs'd for you:
+Ile be my selfe the Herbenger, and make ioyfull
+The hearing of my Wife, with your approach:
+So humbly take my leaue
+   King. My worthy Cawdor
+   Macb. The Prince of Cumberland: that is a step,
+On which I must fall downe, or else o're-leape,
+For in my way it lyes. Starres hide your fires,
+Let not Light see my black and deepe desires:
+The Eye winke at the Hand: yet let that bee,
+Which the Eye feares, when it is done to see.
+  King. True worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant,
+And in his commendations, I am fed:
+It is a Banquet to me. Let's after him,
+Whose care is gone before, to bid vs welcome:
+It is a peerelesse Kinsman.
+Flourish. Exeunt.
+Scena Quinta.
+Enter Macbeths Wife alone with a Letter.
+  Lady. They met me in the day of successe: and I haue
+learn'd by the perfect'st report, they haue more in them, then
+mortall knowledge. When I burnt in desire to question them
+further, they made themselues Ayre, into which they vanish'd.
+Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came Missiues from
+the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title
+before, these weyward Sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to
+the comming on of time, with haile King that shalt be. This
+haue I thought good to deliuer thee (my dearest Partner of
+Greatnesse) that thou might'st not loose the dues of reioycing
+by being ignorant of what Greatnesse is promis'd thee. Lay
+it to thy heart and farewell.
+Glamys thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
+What thou art promis'd: yet doe I feare thy Nature,
+It is too full o'th' Milke of humane kindnesse,
+To catch the neerest way. Thou would'st be great,
+Art not without Ambition, but without
+The illnesse should attend it. What thou would'st highly,
+That would'st thou holily: would'st not play false,
+And yet would'st wrongly winne.
+Thould'st haue, great Glamys, that which cryes,
+Thus thou must doe, if thou haue it;
+And that which rather thou do'st feare to doe,
+Then wishest should be vndone. High thee hither,
+That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare,
+And chastise with the valour of my Tongue
+All that impeides thee from the Golden Round,
+Which Fate and Metaphysicall ayde doth seeme
+To haue thee crown'd withall.
+Enter Messenger.
+What is your tidings?
+  Mess. The King comes here to Night
+   Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it.
+Is not thy Master with him? who, wer't so,
+Would haue inform'd for preparation
+   Mess. So please you, it is true: our Thane is comming:
+One of my fellowes had the speed of him;
+Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
+Then would make vp his Message
+   Lady. Giue him tending,
+He brings great newes,
+Exit Messenger.
+The Rauen himselfe is hoarse,
+That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan
+Vnder my Battlements. Come you Spirits,
+That tend on mortall thoughts, vnsex me here,
+And fill me from the Crowne to the Toe, top-full
+Of direst Crueltie: make thick my blood,
+Stop vp th' accesse, and passage to Remorse,
+That no compunctious visitings of Nature
+Shake my fell purpose, nor keepe peace betweene
+Th' effect, and hit. Come to my Womans Brests,
+And take my Milke for Gall, you murth'ring Ministers,
+Where-euer, in your sightlesse substances,
+You wait on Natures Mischiefe. Come thick Night,
+And pall thee in the dunnest smoake of Hell,
+That my keene Knife see not the Wound it makes,
+Nor Heauen peepe through the Blanket of the darke,
+To cry, hold, hold.
+Enter Macbeth.
+Great Glamys, worthy Cawdor,
+Greater then both, by the all-haile hereafter,
+Thy Letters haue transported me beyond
+This ignorant present, and I feele now
+The future in the instant
+   Macb. My dearest Loue,
+Duncan comes here to Night
+   Lady. And when goes hence?
+  Macb. To morrow, as he purposes
+   Lady. O neuer,
+Shall Sunne that Morrow see.
+Your Face, my Thane, is as a Booke, where men
+May reade strange matters, to beguile the time.
+Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye,
+Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th' innocent flower,
+But be the Serpent vnder't. He that's comming,
+Must be prouided for: and you shall put
+This Nights great Businesse into my dispatch,
+Which shall to all our Nights, and Dayes to come,
+Giue solely soueraigne sway, and Masterdome
+   Macb. We will speake further,
+  Lady. Onely looke vp cleare:
+To alter fauor, euer is to feare:
+Leaue all the rest to me.
+Scena Sexta.
+Hoboyes, and Torches. Enter King, Malcolme, Donalbaine,
+Banquo, Lenox,
+Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.
+  King. This Castle hath a pleasant seat,
+The ayre nimbly and sweetly recommends it selfe
+Vnto our gentle sences
+   Banq. This Guest of Summer,
+The Temple-haunting Barlet does approue,
+By his loued Mansonry, that the Heauens breath
+Smells wooingly here: no Iutty frieze,
+Buttrice, nor Coigne of Vantage, but this Bird
+Hath made his pendant Bed, and procreant Cradle,
+Where they must breed, and haunt: I haue obseru'd
+The ayre is delicate.
+Enter Lady.
+  King. See, see our honor'd Hostesse:
+The Loue that followes vs, sometime is our trouble,
+Which still we thanke as Loue. Herein I teach you,
+How you shall bid God-eyld vs for your paines,
+And thanke vs for your trouble
+   Lady. All our seruice,
+In euery point twice done, and then done double,
+Were poore, and single Businesse, to contend
+Against those Honors deepe, and broad,
+Wherewith your Maiestie loades our House:
+For those of old, and the late Dignities,
+Heap'd vp to them, we rest your Ermites
+   King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
+We courst him at the heeles, and had a purpose
+To be his Purueyor: But he rides well,
+And his great Loue (sharpe as his Spurre) hath holp him
+To his home before vs: Faire and Noble Hostesse
+We are your guest to night
+   La. Your Seruants euer,
+Haue theirs, themselues, and what is theirs in compt,
+To make their Audit at your Highnesse pleasure,
+Still to returne your owne
+   King. Giue me your hand:
+Conduct me to mine Host we loue him highly,
+And shall continue, our Graces towards him.
+By your leaue Hostesse.
+Scena Septima.
+Hoboyes. Torches. Enter a Sewer, and diuers Seruants with Dishes
+Seruice ouer the Stage. Then enter Macbeth
+   Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twer well,
+It were done quickly: If th' Assassination
+Could trammell vp the Consequence, and catch
+With his surcease, Successe: that but this blow
+Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere,
+But heere, vpon this Banke and Schoole of time,
+Wee'ld iumpe the life to come. But in these Cases,
+We still haue iudgement heere, that we but teach
+Bloody Instructions, which being taught, returne
+To plague th' Inuenter, this euen-handed Iustice
+Commends th' Ingredience of our poyson'd Challice
+To our owne lips. Hee's heere in double trust;
+First, as I am his Kinsman, and his Subiect,
+Strong both against the Deed: Then, as his Host,
+Who should against his Murtherer shut the doore,
+Not beare the knife my selfe. Besides, this Duncane
+Hath borne his Faculties so meeke; hath bin
+So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues
+Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd against
+The deepe damnation of his taking off:
+And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe,
+Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd
+Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre,
+Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye,
+That teares shall drowne the winde. I haue no Spurre
+To pricke the sides of my intent, but onely
+Vaulting Ambition, which ore-leapes it selfe,
+And falles on th' other.
+Enter Lady.
+How now? What Newes?
+  La. He has almost supt: why haue you left the chamber?
+  Mac. Hath he ask'd for me?
+  La. Know you not, he ha's?
+  Mac. We will proceed no further in this Businesse:
+He hath Honour'd me of late, and I haue bought
+Golden Opinions from all sorts of people,
+Which would be worne now in their newest glosse,
+Not cast aside so soone
+   La. Was the hope drunke,
+Wherein you drest your selfe? Hath it slept since?
+And wakes it now to looke so greene, and pale,
+At what it did so freely? From this time,
+Such I account thy loue. Art thou affear'd
+To be the same in thine owne Act, and Valour,
+As thou art in desire? Would'st thou haue that
+Which thou esteem'st the Ornament of Life,
+And liue a Coward in thine owne Esteeme?
+Letting I dare not, wait vpon I would,
+Like the poore Cat i'th' Addage
+   Macb. Prythee peace:
+I dare do all that may become a man,
+Who dares do more, is none
+   La. What Beast was't then
+That made you breake this enterprize to me?
+When you durst do it, then you were a man:
+And to be more then what you were, you would
+Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place
+Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
+They haue made themselues, and that their fitnesse now
+Do's vnmake you. I haue giuen Sucke, and know
+How tender 'tis to loue the Babe that milkes me,
+I would, while it was smyling in my Face,
+Haue pluckt my Nipple from his Bonelesse Gummes,
+And dasht the Braines out, had I so sworne
+As you haue done to this
+   Macb. If we should faile?
+  Lady. We faile?
+But screw your courage to the sticking place,
+And wee'le not fayle: when Duncan is asleepe,
+(Whereto the rather shall his dayes hard Iourney
+Soundly inuite him) his two Chamberlaines
+Will I with Wine, and Wassell, so conuince,
+That Memorie, the Warder of the Braine,
+Shall be a Fume, and the Receit of Reason
+A Lymbeck onely: when in Swinish sleepe,
+Their drenched Natures lyes as in a Death,
+What cannot you and I performe vpon
+Th' vnguarded Duncan? What not put vpon
+His spungie Officers? who shall beare the guilt
+Of our great quell
+   Macb. Bring forth Men-Children onely:
+For thy vndaunted Mettle should compose
+Nothing but Males. Will it not be receiu'd,
+When we haue mark'd with blood those sleepie two
+Of his owne Chamber, and vs'd their very Daggers,
+That they haue don't?
+  Lady. Who dares receiue it other,
+As we shall make our Griefes and Clamor rore,
+Vpon his Death?
+  Macb. I am settled, and bend vp
+Each corporall Agent to this terrible Feat.
+Away, and mock the time with fairest show,
+False Face must hide what the false Heart doth know.
+Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
+Enter Banquo, and Fleance, with a Torch before him.
+  Banq. How goes the Night, Boy?
+  Fleance. The Moone is downe: I haue not heard the
+   Banq. And she goes downe at Twelue
+   Fleance. I take't, 'tis later, Sir
+   Banq. Hold, take my Sword:
+There's Husbandry in Heauen,
+Their Candles are all out: take thee that too.
+A heauie Summons lyes like Lead vpon me,
+And yet I would not sleepe:
+Mercifull Powers, restraine in me the cursed thoughts
+That Nature giues way to in repose.
+Enter Macbeth, and a Seruant with a Torch.
+Giue me my Sword: who's there?
+  Macb. A Friend
+   Banq. What Sir, not yet at rest? the King's a bed.
+He hath beene in vnusuall Pleasure,
+And sent forth great Largesse to your Offices.
+This Diamond he greetes your Wife withall,
+By the name of most kind Hostesse,
+And shut vp in measurelesse content
+   Mac. Being vnprepar'd,
+Our will became the seruant to defect,
+Which else should free haue wrought
+   Banq. All's well.
+I dreamt last Night of the three weyward Sisters:
+To you they haue shew'd some truth
+   Macb. I thinke not of them:
+Yet when we can entreat an houre to serue,
+We would spend it in some words vpon that Businesse,
+If you would graunt the time
+   Banq. At your kind'st leysure
+   Macb. If you shall cleaue to my consent,
+When 'tis, it shall make Honor for you
+   Banq. So I lose none,
+In seeking to augment it, but still keepe
+My Bosome franchis'd, and Allegeance cleare,
+I shall be counsail'd
+   Macb. Good repose the while
+   Banq. Thankes Sir: the like to you.
+Exit Banquo.
+  Macb. Goe bid thy Mistresse, when my drinke is ready,
+She strike vpon the Bell. Get thee to bed.
+Is this a Dagger, which I see before me,
+The Handle toward my Hand? Come, let me clutch thee:
+I haue thee not, and yet I see thee still.
+Art thou not fatall Vision, sensible
+To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
+A Dagger of the Minde, a false Creation,
+Proceeding from the heat-oppressed Braine?
+I see thee yet, in forme as palpable,
+As this which now I draw.
+Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going,
+And such an Instrument I was to vse.
+Mine Eyes are made the fooles o'th' other Sences,
+Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
+And on thy Blade, and Dudgeon, Gouts of Blood,
+Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
+It is the bloody Businesse, which informes
+Thus to mine Eyes. Now o're the one halfe World
+Nature seemes dead, and wicked Dreames abuse
+The Curtain'd sleepe: Witchcraft celebrates
+Pale Heccats Offrings: and wither'd Murther,
+Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe,
+Whose howle's his Watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
+With Tarquins rauishing sides, towards his designe
+Moues like a Ghost. Thou sowre and firme-set Earth
+Heare not my steps, which they may walke, for feare
+Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
+And take the present horror from the time,
+Which now sutes with it. Whiles I threat, he liues:
+Words to the heat of deedes too cold breath giues.
+A Bell rings.
+I goe, and it is done: the Bell inuites me.
+Heare it not, Duncan, for it is a Knell,
+That summons thee to Heauen, or to Hell.
+Scena Secunda.
+Enter Lady.
+  La. That which hath made the[m] drunk, hath made me bold:
+What hath quench'd them, hath giuen me fire.
+Hearke, peace: it was the Owle that shriek'd,
+The fatall Bell-man, which giues the stern'st good-night.
+He is about it, the Doores are open:
+And the surfeted Groomes doe mock their charge
+With Snores. I haue drugg'd their Possets,
+That Death and Nature doe contend about them,
+Whether they liue, or dye.
+Enter Macbeth.
+  Macb. Who's there? what hoa?
+  Lady. Alack, I am afraid they haue awak'd,
+And 'tis not done: th' attempt, and not the deed,
+Confounds vs: hearke: I lay'd their Daggers ready,
+He could not misse 'em. Had he not resembled
+My Father as he slept, I had don't.
+My Husband?
+  Macb. I haue done the deed:
+Didst thou not heare a noyse?
+  Lady. I heard the Owle schreame, and the Crickets cry.
+Did not you speake?
+  Macb. When?
+  Lady. Now
+   Macb. As I descended?
+  Lady. I
+   Macb. Hearke, who lyes i'th' second Chamber?
+  Lady. Donalbaine
+   Mac. This is a sorry sight
+   Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight
+   Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleepe,
+And one cry'd Murther, that they did wake each other:
+I stood, and heard them: But they did say their Prayers,
+And addrest them againe to sleepe
+   Lady. There are two lodg'd together
+   Macb. One cry'd God blesse vs, and Amen the other,
+As they had seene me with these Hangmans hands:
+Listning their feare, I could not say Amen,
+When they did say God blesse vs
+   Lady. Consider it not so deepely
+   Mac. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?
+I had most need of Blessing, and Amen stuck in my throat
+   Lady. These deeds must not be thought
+After these wayes: so, it will make vs mad
+   Macb. Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more:
+Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe,
+Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care,
+The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath,
+Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course,
+Chiefe nourisher in Life's Feast
+   Lady. What doe you meane?
+  Macb. Still it cry'd, Sleepe no more to all the House:
+Glamis hath murther'd Sleepe, and therefore Cawdor
+Shall sleepe no more: Macbeth shall sleepe no more
+   Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why worthy Thane,
+You doe vnbend your Noble strength, to thinke
+So braine-sickly of things: Goe get some Water,
+And wash this filthie Witnesse from your Hand.
+Why did you bring these Daggers from the place?
+They must lye there: goe carry them, and smeare
+The sleepie Groomes with blood
+   Macb. Ile goe no more:
+I am afraid, to thinke what I haue done:
+Looke on't againe, I dare not
+   Lady. Infirme of purpose:
+Giue me the Daggers: the sleeping, and the dead,
+Are but as Pictures: 'tis the Eye of Childhood,
+That feares a painted Deuill. If he doe bleed,
+Ile guild the Faces of the Groomes withall,
+For it must seeme their Guilt.
+Knocke within.
+  Macb. Whence is that knocking?
+How is't with me, when euery noyse appalls me?
+What Hands are here? hah: they pluck out mine Eyes.
+Will all great Neptunes Ocean wash this blood
+Cleane from my Hand? no: this my Hand will rather
+The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
+Making the Greene one, Red.
+Enter Lady.
+  Lady. My Hands are of your colour: but I shame
+To weare a Heart so white.
+I heare a knocking at the South entry:
+Retyre we to our Chamber:
+A little Water cleares vs of this deed.
+How easie is it then? your Constancie
+Hath left you vnattended.
+Hearke, more knocking.
+Get on your Night-Gowne, least occasion call vs,
+And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
+So poorely in your thoughts
+   Macb. To know my deed,
+'Twere best not know my selfe.
+Wake Duncan with thy knocking:
+I would thou could'st.
+Scena Tertia.
+Enter a Porter. Knocking within.
+  Porter. Here's a knocking indeede: if a man were
+Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the
+Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there
+i'th' name of Belzebub? Here's a Farmer, that hang'd
+himselfe on th' expectation of Plentie: Come in time, haue
+Napkins enow about you, here you'le sweat for't.
+Knock, knock. Who's there in th' other Deuils Name?
+Faith here's an Equiuocator, that could sweare in both
+the Scales against eyther Scale, who committed Treason
+enough for Gods sake, yet could not equiuocate to Heauen:
+oh come in, Equiuocator.
+Knock, Knock, Knock. Who's there? 'Faith here's an English
+Taylor come hither, for stealing out of a French Hose:
+Come in Taylor, here you may rost your Goose.
+Knock, Knock. Neuer at quiet: What are you? but this
+place is too cold for Hell. Ile Deuill-Porter it no further:
+I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that
+goe the Primrose way to th' euerlasting Bonfire.
+Anon, anon, I pray you remember the Porter.
+Enter Macduff, and Lenox.
+  Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to Bed,
+That you doe lye so late?
+  Port. Faith Sir, we were carowsing till the second Cock:
+And Drinke, Sir, is a great prouoker of three things
+   Macd. What three things does Drinke especially
+  Port. Marry, Sir, Nose-painting, Sleepe, and Vrine.
+Lecherie, Sir, it prouokes, and vnprouokes: it prouokes
+the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore
+much Drinke may be said to be an Equiuocator with Lecherie:
+it makes him, and it marres him; it sets him on,
+and it takes him off; it perswades him, and dis-heartens
+him; makes him stand too, and not stand too: in conclusion,
+equiuocates him in a sleepe, and giuing him the Lye,
+leaues him
+   Macd. I beleeue, Drinke gaue thee the Lye last Night
+   Port. That it did, Sir, i'the very Throat on me: but I
+requited him for his Lye, and (I thinke) being too strong
+for him, though he tooke vp my Legges sometime, yet I
+made a Shift to cast him.
+Enter Macbeth.
+  Macd. Is thy Master stirring?
+Our knocking ha's awak'd him: here he comes
+   Lenox. Good morrow, Noble Sir
+   Macb. Good morrow both
+   Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?
+  Macb. Not yet
+   Macd. He did command me to call timely on him,
+I haue almost slipt the houre
+   Macb. Ile bring you to him
+   Macd. I know this is a ioyfull trouble to you:
+But yet 'tis one
+   Macb. The labour we delight in, Physicks paine:
+This is the Doore
+   Macd. Ile make so bold to call, for 'tis my limitted
+Exit Macduffe.
+  Lenox. Goes the King hence to day?
+  Macb. He does: he did appoint so
+   Lenox. The Night ha's been vnruly:
+Where we lay, our Chimneys were blowne downe,
+And (as they say) lamentings heard i'th' Ayre;
+Strange Schreemes of Death,
+And Prophecying, with Accents terrible,
+Of dyre Combustion, and confus'd Euents,
+New hatch'd toth' wofull time.
+The obscure Bird clamor'd the liue-long Night.
+Some say, the Earth was Feuorous,
+And did shake
+   Macb. 'Twas a rough Night
+   Lenox. My young remembrance cannot paralell
+A fellow to it.
+Enter Macduff.
+  Macd. O horror, horror, horror,
+Tongue nor Heart cannot conceiue, nor name thee
+   Macb. and Lenox. What's the matter?
+  Macd. Confusion now hath made his Master-peece:
+Most sacrilegious Murther hath broke ope
+The Lords anoynted Temple, and stole thence
+The Life o'th' Building
+   Macb. What is't you say, the Life?
+  Lenox. Meane you his Maiestie?
+  Macd. Approch the Chamber, and destroy your sight
+With a new Gorgon. Doe not bid me speake:
+See, and then speake your selues: awake, awake,
+Exeunt. Macbeth and Lenox.
+Ring the Alarum Bell: Murther, and Treason,
+Banquo, and Donalbaine: Malcolme awake,
+Shake off this Downey sleepe, Deaths counterfeit,
+And looke on Death it selfe: vp, vp, and see
+The great Doomes Image: Malcolme, Banquo,
+As from your Graues rise vp, and walke like Sprights,
+To countenance this horror. Ring the Bell.
+Bell rings. Enter Lady.
+  Lady. What's the Businesse?
+That such a hideous Trumpet calls to parley
+The sleepers of the House? speake, speake
+   Macd. O gentle Lady,
+'Tis not for you to heare what I can speake:
+The repetition in a Womans eare,
+Would murther as it fell.
+Enter Banquo.
+O Banquo, Banquo, Our Royall Master's murther'd
+   Lady. Woe, alas:
+What, in our House?
+  Ban. Too cruell, any where.
+Deare Duff, I prythee contradict thy selfe,
+And say, it is not so.
+Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Rosse.
+  Macb. Had I but dy'd an houre before this chance,
+I had liu'd a blessed time: for from this instant,
+There's nothing serious in Mortalitie:
+All is but Toyes: Renowne and Grace is dead,
+The Wine of Life is drawne, and the meere Lees
+Is left this Vault, to brag of.
+Enter Malcolme and Donalbaine.
+  Donal. What is amisse?
+  Macb. You are, and doe not know't:
+The Spring, the Head, the Fountaine of your Blood
+Is stopt, the very Source of it is stopt
+   Macd. Your Royall Father's murther'd
+   Mal. Oh, by whom?
+  Lenox. Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't:
+Their Hands and Faces were all badg'd with blood,
+So were their Daggers, which vnwip'd, we found
+Vpon their Pillowes: they star'd, and were distracted,
+No mans Life was to be trusted with them
+   Macb. O, yet I doe repent me of my furie,
+That I did kill them
+   Macd. Wherefore did you so?
+  Macb. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate, & furious,
+Loyall, and Neutrall, in a moment? No man:
+Th' expedition of my violent Loue
+Out-run the pawser, Reason. Here lay Duncan,
+His Siluer skinne, lac'd with His Golden Blood,
+And his gash'd Stabs, look'd like a Breach in Nature,
+For Ruines wastfull entrance: there the Murtherers,
+Steep'd in the Colours of their Trade; their Daggers
+Vnmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refraine,
+That had a heart to loue; and in that heart,
+Courage, to make's loue knowne?
+  Lady. Helpe me hence, hoa
+   Macd. Looke to the Lady
+   Mal. Why doe we hold our tongues,
+That most may clayme this argument for ours?
+  Donal. What should be spoken here,
+Where our Fate hid in an augure hole,
+May rush, and seize vs? Let's away,
+Our Teares are not yet brew'd
+   Mal. Nor our strong Sorrow
+Vpon the foot of Motion
+   Banq. Looke to the Lady:
+And when we haue our naked Frailties hid,
+That suffer in exposure; let vs meet,
+And question this most bloody piece of worke,
+To know it further. Feares and scruples shake vs:
+In the great Hand of God I stand, and thence,
+Against the vndivulg'd pretence, I fight
+Of Treasonous Mallice
+   Macd. And so doe I
+   All. So all
+   Macb. Let's briefely put on manly readinesse,
+And meet i'th' Hall together
+   All. Well contented.
+  Malc. What will you doe?
+Let's not consort with them:
+To shew an vnfelt Sorrow, is an Office
+Which the false man do's easie.
+Ile to England
+   Don. To Ireland, I:
+Our seperated fortune shall keepe vs both the safer:
+Where we are, there's Daggers in mens smiles;
+The neere in blood, the neerer bloody
+   Malc. This murtherous Shaft that's shot,
+Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way,
+Is to auoid the ayme. Therefore to Horse,
+And let vs not be daintie of leaue-taking,
+But shift away: there's warrant in that Theft,
+Which steales it selfe, when there's no mercie left.
+Scena Quarta.
+Enter Rosse, with an Old man.
+  Old man. Threescore and ten I can remember well,
+Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene
+Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night
+Hath trifled former knowings
+   Rosse. Ha, good Father,
+Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act,
+Threatens his bloody Stage: byth' Clock 'tis Day,
+And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe:
+Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame,
+That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe,
+When liuing Light should kisse it?
+  Old man. 'Tis vnnaturall,
+Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last,
+A Faulcon towring in her pride of place,
+Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd
+   Rosse. And Duncans Horses,
+(A thing most strange, and certaine)
+Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race,
+Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their stalls, flong out,
+Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would
+Make Warre with Mankinde
+   Old man. 'Tis said, they eate each other
+   Rosse. They did so:
+To th' amazement of mine eyes that look'd vpon't.
+Enter Macduffe.
+Heere comes the good Macduffe.
+How goes the world Sir, now?
+  Macd. Why see you not?
+  Ross. Is't known who did this more then bloody deed?
+  Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slaine
+   Ross. Alas the day,
+What good could they pretend?
+  Macd. They were subborned,
+Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes
+Are stolne away and fled, which puts vpon them
+Suspition of the deed
+   Rosse. 'Gainst Nature still,
+Thriftlesse Ambition, that will rauen vp
+Thine owne liues meanes: Then 'tis most like,
+The Soueraignty will fall vpon Macbeth
+   Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone
+To be inuested
+   Rosse. Where is Duncans body?
+  Macd. Carried to Colmekill,
+The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors,
+And Guardian of their Bones
+   Rosse. Will you to Scone?
+  Macd. No Cosin, Ile to Fife
+   Rosse. Well, I will thither
+   Macd. Well may you see things wel done there: Adieu
+Least our old Robes sit easier then our new
+   Rosse. Farewell, Father
+   Old M. Gods benyson go with you, and with those
+That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.
+Exeunt. omnes
+Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
+Enter Banquo.
+  Banq. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
+As the weyard Women promis'd, and I feare
+Thou playd'st most fowly for't: yet it was saide
+It should not stand in thy Posterity,
+But that my selfe should be the Roote, and Father
+Of many Kings. If there come truth from them,
+As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches shine,
+Why by the verities on thee made good,
+May they not be my Oracles as well,
+And set me vp in hope. But hush, no more.
+Senit sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Lenox, Rosse, Lords,
+  Macb. Heere's our chiefe Guest
+   La. If he had beene forgotten,
+It had bene as a gap in our great Feast,
+And all-thing vnbecomming
+   Macb. To night we hold a solemne Supper sir,
+And Ile request your presence
+   Banq. Let your Highnesse
+Command vpon me, to the which my duties
+Are with a most indissoluble tye
+For euer knit
+   Macb. Ride you this afternoone?
+  Ban. I, my good Lord
+   Macb. We should haue else desir'd your good aduice
+(Which still hath been both graue, and prosperous)
+In this dayes Councell: but wee'le take to morrow.
+Is't farre you ride?
+  Ban. As farre, my Lord, as will fill vp the time
+'Twixt this, and Supper. Goe not my Horse the better,
+I must become a borrower of the Night,
+For a darke houre, or twaine
+   Macb. Faile not our Feast
+   Ban. My Lord, I will not
+   Macb. We heare our bloody Cozens are bestow'd
+In England, and in Ireland, not confessing
+Their cruell Parricide, filling their hearers
+With strange inuention. But of that to morrow,
+When therewithall, we shall haue cause of State,
+Crauing vs ioyntly. Hye you to Horse:
+Adieu, till you returne at Night.
+Goes Fleance with you?
+  Ban. I, my good Lord: our time does call vpon's
+   Macb. I wish your Horses swift, and sure of foot:
+And so I doe commend you to their backs.
+Exit Banquo.
+Let euery man be master of his time,
+Till seuen at Night, to make societie
+The sweeter welcome:
+We will keepe our selfe till Supper time alone:
+While then, God be with you.
+Exeunt. Lords.
+Sirrha, a word with you: Attend those men
+Our pleasure?
+  Seruant. They are, my Lord, without the Pallace
+   Macb. Bring them before vs.
+Exit Seruant.
+To be thus, is nothing, but to be safely thus
+Our feares in Banquo sticke deepe,
+And in his Royaltie of Nature reignes that
+Which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares,
+And to that dauntlesse temper of his Minde,
+He hath a Wisdome, that doth guide his Valour,
+To act in safetie. There is none but he,
+Whose being I doe feare: and vnder him,
+My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said
+Mark Anthonies was by Caesar. He chid the Sisters,
+When first they put the Name of King vpon me,
+And bad them speake to him. Then Prophet-like,
+They hayl'd him Father to a Line of Kings.
+Vpon my Head they plac'd a fruitlesse Crowne,
+And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe,
+Thence to be wrencht with an vnlineall Hand,
+No Sonne of mine succeeding: if't be so,
+For Banquo's Issue haue I fil'd my Minde,
+For them, the gracious Duncan haue I murther'd,
+Put Rancours in the Vessell of my Peace
+Onely for them, and mine eternall Iewell
+Giuen to the common Enemie of Man,
+To make them Kings, the Seedes of Banquo Kings.
+Rather then so, come Fate into the Lyst,
+And champion me to th' vtterance.
+Who's there?
+Enter Seruant, and two Murtherers.
+Now goe to the Doore, and stay there till we call.
+Exit Seruant.
+Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
+  Murth. It was, so please your Highnesse
+   Macb. Well then,
+Now haue you consider'd of my speeches:
+Know, that it was he, in the times past,
+Which held you so vnder fortune,
+Which you thought had been our innocent selfe.
+This I made good to you, in our last conference,
+Past in probation with you:
+How you were borne in hand, how crost:
+The Instruments: who wrought with them:
+And all things else, that might
+To halfe a Soule, and to a Notion craz'd,
+Say, Thus did Banquo
+   1.Murth. You made it knowne to vs
+   Macb. I did so:
+And went further, which is now
+Our point of second meeting.
+Doe you finde your patience so predominant,
+In your nature, that you can let this goe?
+Are you so Gospell'd, to pray for this good man,
+And for his Issue, whose heauie hand
+Hath bow'd you to the Graue, and begger'd
+Yours for euer?
+  1.Murth. We are men, my Liege
+   Macb. I, in the Catalogue ye goe for men,
+As Hounds, and Greyhounds, Mungrels, Spaniels, Curres,
+Showghes, Water-Rugs, and Demy-Wolues are clipt
+All by the Name of Dogges: the valued file
+Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
+The House-keeper, the Hunter, euery one
+According to the gift, which bounteous Nature
+Hath in him clos'd: whereby he does receiue
+Particular addition, from the Bill,
+That writes them all alike: and so of men.
+Now, if you haue a station in the file,
+Not i'th' worst ranke of Manhood, say't,
+And I will put that Businesse in your Bosomes,
+Whose execution takes your Enemie off,
+Grapples you to the heart; and loue of vs,
+Who weare our Health but sickly in his Life,
+Which in his Death were perfect
+   2.Murth. I am one, my Liege,
+Whom the vile Blowes and Buffets of the World
+Hath so incens'd, that I am recklesse what I doe,
+To spight the World
+   1.Murth. And I another,
+So wearie with Disasters, tugg'd with Fortune,
+That I would set my Life on any Chance,
+To mend it, or be rid on't
+   Macb. Both of you know Banquo was your Enemie
+   Murth. True, my Lord
+   Macb. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance,
+That euery minute of his being, thrusts
+Against my neer'st of Life: and though I could
+With bare-fac'd power sweepe him from my sight,
+And bid my will auouch it; yet I must not,
+For certaine friends that are both his, and mine,
+Whose loues I may not drop, but wayle his fall,
+Who I my selfe struck downe: and thence it is,
+That I to your assistance doe make loue,
+Masking the Businesse from the common Eye,
+For sundry weightie Reasons
+   2.Murth. We shall, my Lord,
+Performe what you command vs
+   1.Murth. Though our Liues-
+  Macb. Your Spirits shine through you.
+Within this houre, at most,
+I will aduise you where to plant your selues,
+Acquaint you with the perfect Spy o'th' time,
+The moment on't, for't must be done to Night,
+And something from the Pallace: alwayes thought,
+That I require a clearenesse; and with him,
+To leaue no Rubs nor Botches in the Worke:
+  Fleans , his Sonne, that keepes him companie,
+Whose absence is no lesse materiall to me,
+Then is his Fathers, must embrace the fate
+Of that darke houre: resolue your selues apart,
+Ile come to you anon
+   Murth. We are resolu'd, my Lord
+   Macb. Ile call vpon you straight: abide within,
+It is concluded: Banquo, thy Soules flight,
+If it finde Heauen, must finde it out to Night.
+Scena Secunda.
+Enter Macbeths Lady, and a Seruant.
+  Lady. Is Banquo gone from Court?
+  Seruant. I, Madame, but returnes againe to Night
+   Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leysure,
+For a few words
+   Seruant. Madame, I will.
+  Lady. Nought's had, all's spent.
+Where our desire is got without content:
+'Tis safer, to be that which we destroy,
+Then by destruction dwell in doubtfull ioy.
+Enter Macbeth.
+How now, my Lord, why doe you keepe alone?
+Of sorryest Fancies your Companions making,
+Vsing those Thoughts, which should indeed haue dy'd
+With them they thinke on: things without all remedie
+Should be without regard: what's done, is done
+   Macb. We haue scorch'd the Snake, not kill'd it:
+Shee'le close, and be her selfe, whilest our poore Mallice
+Remaines in danger of her former Tooth.
+But let the frame of things dis-ioynt,
+Both the Worlds suffer,
+Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe
+In the affliction of these terrible Dreames,
+That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead,
+Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace,
+Then on the torture of the Minde to lye
+In restlesse extasie.
+Duncane is in his Graue:
+After Lifes fitfull Feuer, he sleepes well,
+Treason ha's done his worst: nor Steele, nor Poyson,
+Mallice domestique, forraine Leuie, nothing,
+Can touch him further
+   Lady. Come on:
+Gentle my Lord, sleeke o're your rugged Lookes,
+Be bright and Iouiall among your Guests to Night
+   Macb. So shall I Loue, and so I pray be you:
+Let your remembrance apply to Banquo,
+Present him Eminence, both with Eye and Tongue:
+Vnsafe the while, that wee must laue
+Our Honors in these flattering streames,
+And make our Faces Vizards to our Hearts,
+Disguising what they are
+   Lady. You must leaue this
+   Macb. O, full of Scorpions is my Minde, deare Wife:
+Thou know'st, that Banquo and his Fleans liues
+   Lady. But in them, Natures Coppie's not eterne
+   Macb. There's comfort yet, they are assaileable,
+Then be thou iocund: ere the Bat hath flowne
+His Cloyster'd flight, ere to black Heccats summons
+The shard-borne Beetle, with his drowsie hums,
+Hath rung Nights yawning Peale,
+There shall be done a deed of dreadfull note
+   Lady. What's to be done?
+  Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest Chuck,
+Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night,
+Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
+And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand
+Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
+Which keepes me pale. Light thickens,
+And the Crow makes Wing toth' Rookie Wood:
+Good things of Day begin to droope, and drowse,
+Whiles Nights black Agents to their Prey's doe rowse.
+Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still,
+Things bad begun, make strong themselues by ill:
+So prythee goe with me.
+Scena Tertia.
+Enter three Murtherers.
+  1. But who did bid thee ioyne with vs?
+  3. Macbeth
+   2. He needes not our mistrust, since he deliuers
+Our Offices, and what we haue to doe,
+To the direction iust
+   1. Then stand with vs:
+The West yet glimmers with some streakes of Day.
+Now spurres the lated Traueller apace,
+To gayne the timely Inne, and neere approches
+The subiect of our Watch
+   3. Hearke, I heare Horses
+   Banquo within. Giue vs a Light there, hoa
+   2. Then 'tis hee:
+The rest, that are within the note of expectation,
+Alreadie are i'th' Court
+   1. His Horses goe about
+   3. Almost a mile: but he does vsually,
+So all men doe, from hence toth' Pallace Gate
+Make it their Walke.
+Enter Banquo and Fleans, with a Torch.
+  2. A Light, a Light
+   3. 'Tis hee
+   1. Stand too't
+   Ban. It will be Rayne to Night
+   1. Let it come downe
+   Ban. O, Trecherie!
+Flye good Fleans, flye, flye, flye,
+Thou may'st reuenge. O Slaue!
+  3. Who did strike out the Light?
+  1. Was't not the way?
+  3. There's but one downe: the Sonne is fled
+   2. We haue lost
+Best halfe of our Affaire
+   1. Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
+Scaena Quarta.
+Banquet prepar'd. Enter Macbeth, Lady, Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and
+  Macb. You know your owne degrees, sit downe:
+At first and last, the hearty welcome
+   Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty
+   Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society,
+And play the humble Host:
+Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time
+We will require her welcome
+   La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends,
+For my heart speakes, they are welcome.
+Enter first Murtherer.
+  Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks
+Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st,
+Be large in mirth, anon wee'l drinke a Measure
+The Table round. There's blood vpon thy face
+   Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then
+   Macb. 'Tis better thee without, then he within.
+Is he dispatch'd?
+  Mur. My Lord his throat is cut, that I did for him
+   Mac. Thou art the best o'th' Cut-throats,
+Yet hee's good that did the like for Fleans:
+If thou did'st it, thou art the Non-pareill
+   Mur. Most Royall Sir
+Fleans is scap'd
+   Macb. Then comes my Fit againe:
+I had else beene perfect;
+Whole as the Marble, founded as the Rocke,
+As broad, and generall, as the casing Ayre:
+But now I am cabin'd, crib'd, confin'd, bound in
+To sawcy doubts, and feares. But Banquo's safe?
+  Mur. I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
+With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
+The least a Death to Nature
+   Macb. Thankes for that:
+There the growne Serpent lyes, the worme that's fled
+Hath Nature that in time will Venom breed,
+No teeth for th' present. Get thee gone, to morrow
+Wee'l heare our selues againe.
+Exit Murderer.
+  Lady. My Royall Lord,
+You do not giue the Cheere, the Feast is sold
+That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a making:
+'Tis giuen, with welcome: to feede were best at home:
+From thence, the sawce to meate is Ceremony,
+Meeting were bare without it.
+Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeths place.
+  Macb. Sweet Remembrancer:
+Now good digestion waite on Appetite,
+And health on both
+   Lenox. May't please your Highnesse sit
+   Macb. Here had we now our Countries Honor, roof'd,
+Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present:
+Who, may I rather challenge for vnkindnesse,
+Then pitty for Mischance
+   Rosse. His absence (Sir)
+Layes blame vpon his promise. Pleas't your Highnesse
+To grace vs with your Royall Company?
+  Macb. The Table's full
+   Lenox. Heere is a place reseru'd Sir
+   Macb. Where?
+  Lenox. Heere my good Lord.
+What is't that moues your Highnesse?
+  Macb. Which of you haue done this?
+  Lords. What, my good Lord?
+  Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: neuer shake
+Thy goary lockes at me
+   Rosse. Gentlemen rise, his Highnesse is not well
+   Lady. Sit worthy Friends: my Lord is often thus,
+And hath beene from his youth. Pray you keepe Seat,
+The fit is momentary, vpon a thought
+He will againe be well. If much you note him
+You shall offend him, and extend his Passion,
+Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
+  Macb. I, and a bold one, that dare looke on that
+Which might appall the Diuell
+   La. O proper stuffe:
+This is the very painting of your feare:
+This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you said
+Led you to Duncan. O, these flawes and starts
+(Impostors to true feare) would well become
+A womans story, at a Winters fire
+Authoriz'd by her Grandam: shame it selfe,
+Why do you make such faces? When all's done
+You looke but on a stoole
+   Macb. Prythee see there:
+Behold, looke, loe, how say you:
+Why what care I, if thou canst nod, speake too.
+If Charnell houses, and our Graues must send
+Those that we bury, backe; our Monuments
+Shall be the Mawes of Kytes
+   La. What? quite vnmann'd in folly
+   Macb. If I stand heere, I saw him
+   La. Fie for shame
+   Macb. Blood hath bene shed ere now, i'th' olden time
+Ere humane Statute purg'd the gentle Weale:
+I, and since too, Murthers haue bene perform'd
+Too terrible for the eare. The times has bene,
+That when the Braines were out, the man would dye,
+And there an end: But now they rise againe
+With twenty mortall murthers on their crownes,
+And push vs from our stooles. This is more strange
+Then such a murther is
+   La. My worthy Lord
+Your Noble Friends do lacke you
+   Macb. I do forget:
+Do not muse at me my most worthy Friends,
+I haue a strange infirmity, which is nothing
+To those that know me. Come, loue and health to all,
+Then Ile sit downe: Giue me some Wine, fill full:
+Enter Ghost.
+I drinke to th' generall ioy o'th' whole Table,
+And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we misse:
+Would he were heere: to all, and him we thirst,
+And all to all
+   Lords. Our duties, and the pledge
+   Mac. Auant, & quit my sight, let the earth hide thee:
+Thy bones are marrowlesse, thy blood is cold:
+Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
+Which thou dost glare with
+   La. Thinke of this good Peeres
+But as a thing of Custome: 'Tis no other,
+Onely it spoyles the pleasure of the time
+   Macb. What man dare, I dare:
+Approach thou like the rugged Russian Beare,
+The arm'd Rhinoceros, or th' Hircan Tiger,
+Take any shape but that, and my firme Nerues
+Shall neuer tremble. Or be aliue againe,
+And dare me to the Desart with thy Sword:
+If trembling I inhabit then, protest mee
+The Baby of a Girle. Hence horrible shadow,
+Vnreall mock'ry hence. Why so, being gone
+I am a man againe: pray you sit still
+   La. You haue displac'd the mirth,
+Broke the good meeting, with most admir'd disorder
+   Macb. Can such things be,
+And ouercome vs like a Summers Clowd,
+Without our speciall wonder? You make me strange
+Euen to the disposition that I owe,
+When now I thinke you can behold such sights,
+And keepe the naturall Rubie of your Cheekes,
+When mine is blanch'd with feare
+   Rosse. What sights, my Lord?
+  La. I pray you speake not: he growes worse & worse
+Question enrages him: at once, goodnight.
+Stand not vpon the order of your going,
+But go at once
+   Len. Good night, and better health
+Attend his Maiesty
+   La. A kinde goodnight to all.
+Exit Lords.
+  Macb. It will haue blood they say:
+Blood will haue Blood:
+Stones haue beene knowne to moue, & Trees to speake:
+Augures, and vnderstood Relations, haue
+By Maggot Pyes, & Choughes, & Rookes brought forth
+The secret'st man of Blood. What is the night?
+  La. Almost at oddes with morning, which is which
+   Macb. How say'st thou that Macduff denies his person
+At our great bidding
+   La. Did you send to him Sir?
+  Macb. I heare it by the way: But I will send:
+There's not a one of them but in his house
+I keepe a Seruant Feed. I will to morrow
+(And betimes I will) to the weyard Sisters.
+More shall they speake: for now I am bent to know
+By the worst meanes, the worst, for mine owne good,
+All causes shall giue way. I am in blood
+Stept in so farre, that should I wade no more,
+Returning were as tedious as go ore:
+Strange things I haue in head, that will to hand,
+Which must be acted, ere they may be scand
+   La. You lacke the season of all Natures, sleepe
+   Macb. Come, wee'l to sleepe: My strange & self-abuse
+Is the initiate feare, that wants hard vse:
+We are yet but yong indeed.
+Scena Quinta.
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecat.
+  1. Why how now Hecat, you looke angerly?
+  Hec. Haue I not reason (Beldams) as you are?
+Sawcy, and ouer-bold, how did you dare
+To Trade, and Trafficke with Macbeth,
+In Riddles, and Affaires of death;
+And I the Mistris of your Charmes,
+The close contriuer of all harmes,
+Was neuer call'd to beare my part,
+Or shew the glory of our Art?
+And which is worse, all you haue done
+Hath bene but for a wayward Sonne,
+Spightfull, and wrathfull, who (as others do)
+Loues for his owne ends, not for you.
+But make amends now: Get you gon,
+And at the pit of Acheron
+Meete me i'th' Morning: thither he
+Will come, to know his Destinie.
+Your Vessels, and your Spels prouide,
+Your Charmes, and euery thing beside;
+I am for th' Ayre: This night Ile spend
+Vnto a dismall, and a Fatall end.
+Great businesse must be wrought ere Noone.
+Vpon the Corner of the Moone
+There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound,
+Ile catch it ere it come to ground;
+And that distill'd by Magicke slights,
+Shall raise such Artificiall Sprights,
+As by the strength of their illusion,
+Shall draw him on to his Confusion.
+He shall spurne Fate, scorne Death, and beare
+His hopes 'boue Wisedome, Grace, and Feare:
+And you all know, Security
+Is Mortals cheefest Enemie.
+Musicke, and a Song.
+Hearke, I am call'd: my little Spirit see
+Sits in Foggy cloud, and stayes for me.
+Sing within. Come away, come away, &c.
+  1 Come, let's make hast, shee'l soone be
+Backe againe.
+Scaena Sexta.
+Enter Lenox, and another Lord.
+  Lenox. My former Speeches,
+Haue but hit your Thoughts
+Which can interpret farther: Onely I say
+Things haue bin strangely borne. The gracious Duncan
+Was pittied of Macbeth: marry he was dead:
+And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late,
+Whom you may say (if't please you) Fleans kill'd,
+For Fleans fled: Men must not walke too late.
+Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
+It was for Malcolme, and for Donalbane
+To kill their gracious Father? Damned Fact,
+How it did greeue Macbeth? Did he not straight
+In pious rage, the two delinquents teare,
+That were the Slaues of drinke, and thralles of sleepe?
+Was not that Nobly done? I, and wisely too:
+For 'twould haue anger'd any heart aliue
+To heare the men deny't. So that I say,
+He ha's borne all things well, and I do thinke,
+That had he Duncans Sonnes vnder his Key,
+(As, and't please Heauen he shall not) they should finde
+What 'twere to kill a Father: So should Fleans.
+But peace; for from broad words, and cause he fayl'd
+His presence at the Tyrants Feast, I heare
+Macduffe liues in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
+Where he bestowes himselfe?
+  Lord. The Sonnes of Duncane
+(From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth)
+Liues in the English Court, and is receyu'd
+Of the most Pious Edward, with such grace,
+That the maleuolence of Fortune, nothing
+Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduffe
+Is gone, to pray the Holy King, vpon his ayd
+To wake Northumberland, and warlike Seyward,
+That by the helpe of these (with him aboue)
+To ratifie the Worke) we may againe
+Giue to our Tables meate, sleepe to our Nights:
+Free from our Feasts, and Banquets bloody kniues;
+Do faithfull Homage, and receiue free Honors,
+All which we pine for now. And this report
+Hath so exasperate their King, that hee
+Prepares for some attempt of Warre
+   Len. Sent he to Macduffe?
+  Lord. He did: and with an absolute Sir, not I
+The clowdy Messenger turnes me his backe,
+And hums; as who should say, you'l rue the time
+That clogges me with this Answer
+   Lenox. And that well might
+Aduise him to a Caution, t' hold what distance
+His wisedome can prouide. Some holy Angell
+Flye to the Court of England, and vnfold
+His Message ere he come, that a swift blessing
+May soone returne to this our suffering Country,
+Vnder a hand accurs'd
+   Lord. Ile send my Prayers with him.
+Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
+Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
+  1 Thrice the brinded Cat hath mew'd
+   2 Thrice, and once the Hedge-Pigge whin'd
+   3 Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time
+   1 Round about the Caldron go:
+In the poysond Entrailes throw
+Toad, that vnder cold stone,
+Dayes and Nights, ha's thirty one:
+Sweltred Venom sleeping got,
+Boyle thou first i'th' charmed pot
+   All. Double, double, toile and trouble;
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+   2 Fillet of a Fenny Snake,
+In the Cauldron boyle and bake:
+Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge,
+Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge:
+Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting,
+Lizards legge, and Howlets wing:
+For a Charme of powrefull trouble,
+Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble
+   All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+   3 Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolfe,
+Witches Mummey, Maw, and Gulfe
+Of the rauin'd salt Sea sharke:
+Roote of Hemlocke, digg'd i'th' darke:
+Liuer of Blaspheming Iew,
+Gall of Goate, and Slippes of Yew,
+Sliuer'd in the Moones Ecclipse:
+Nose of Turke, and Tartars lips:
+Finger of Birth-strangled Babe,
+Ditch-deliuer'd by a Drab,
+Make the Grewell thicke, and slab.
+Adde thereto a Tigers Chawdron,
+For th' Ingredience of our Cawdron
+   All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,
+Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble
+   2 Coole it with a Baboones blood,
+Then the Charme is firme and good.
+Enter Hecat, and the other three Witches.
+  Hec. O well done: I commend your paines,
+And euery one shall share i'th' gaines:
+And now about the Cauldron sing
+Like Elues and Fairies in a Ring,
+Inchanting all that you put in.
+Musicke and a Song. Blacke Spirits, &c.
+  2 By the pricking of my Thumbes,
+Something wicked this way comes:
+Open Lockes, who euer knockes.
+Enter Macbeth.
+  Macb. How now you secret, black, & midnight Hags?
+What is't you do?
+  All. A deed without a name
+   Macb. I coniure you, by that which you Professe,
+(How ere you come to know it) answer me:
+Though you vntye the Windes, and let them fight
+Against the Churches: Though the yesty Waues
+Confound and swallow Nauigation vp:
+Though bladed Corne be lodg'd, & Trees blown downe,
+Though Castles topple on their Warders heads:
+Though Pallaces, and Pyramids do slope
+Their heads to their Foundations: Though the treasure
+Of Natures Germaine, tumble altogether,
+Euen till destruction sicken: Answer me
+To what I aske you
+   1 Speake
+   2 Demand
+   3 Wee'l answer
+   1 Say, if th'hadst rather heare it from our mouthes,
+Or from our Masters
+   Macb. Call 'em: let me see 'em
+   1 Powre in Sowes blood, that hath eaten
+Her nine Farrow: Greaze that's sweaten
+From the Murderers Gibbet, throw
+Into the Flame
+   All. Come high or low:
+Thy Selfe and Office deaftly show.
+Thunder. 1. Apparation, an Armed Head.
+  Macb. Tell me, thou vnknowne power
+   1 He knowes thy thought:
+Heare his speech, but say thou nought
+   1 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth:
+Beware Macduffe,
+Beware the Thane of Fife: dismisse me. Enough.
+He Descends.
+  Macb. What ere thou art, for thy good caution, thanks
+Thou hast harp'd my feare aright. But one word more
+   1 He will not be commanded: heere's another
+More potent then the first.
+Thunder. 2 Apparition, a Bloody Childe.
+  2 Appar. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth
+   Macb. Had I three eares, Il'd heare thee
+   Appar. Be bloody, bold, & resolute:
+Laugh to scorne
+The powre of man: For none of woman borne
+Shall harme Macbeth.
+  Mac. Then liue Macduffe: what need I feare of thee?
+But yet Ile make assurance: double sure,
+And take a Bond of Fate: thou shalt not liue,
+That I may tell pale-hearted Feare, it lies;
+And sleepe in spight of Thunder.
+Thunder 3 Apparation, a Childe Crowned, with a Tree in his hand.
+What is this, that rises like the issue of a King,
+And weares vpon his Baby-brow, the round
+And top of Soueraignty?
+  All. Listen, but speake not too't
+   3 Appar. Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care:
+Who chafes, who frets, or where Conspirers are:
+Macbeth shall neuer vanquish'd be, vntill
+Great Byrnam Wood, to high Dunsmane Hill
+Shall come against him.
+  Macb. That will neuer bee:
+Who can impresse the Forrest, bid the Tree
+Vnfixe his earth-bound Root? Sweet boadments, good:
+Rebellious dead, rise neuer till the Wood
+Of Byrnan rise, and our high plac'd Macbeth
+Shall liue the Lease of Nature, pay his breath
+To time, and mortall Custome. Yet my Hart
+Throbs to know one thing: Tell me, if your Art
+Can tell so much: Shall Banquo's issue euer
+Reigne in this Kingdome?
+  All. Seeke to know no more
+   Macb. I will be satisfied. Deny me this,
+And an eternall Curse fall on you: Let me know.
+Why sinkes that Caldron? & what noise is this?
+  1 Shew
+   2 Shew
+   3 Shew
+   All. Shew his Eyes, and greeue his Hart,
+Come like shadowes, so depart.
+A shew of eight Kings, and Banquo last, with a glasse in his hand.
+  Macb. Thou art too like the Spirit of Banquo: Down:
+Thy Crowne do's seare mine Eye-bals. And thy haire
+Thou other Gold-bound-brow, is like the first:
+A third, is like the former. Filthy Hagges,
+Why do you shew me this? - A fourth? Start eyes!
+What will the Line stretch out to'th' cracke of Doome?
+Another yet? A seauenth? Ile see no more:
+And yet the eighth appeares, who beares a glasse,
+Which shewes me many more: and some I see,
+That two-fold Balles, and trebble Scepters carry.
+Horrible sight: Now I see 'tis true,
+For the Blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles vpon me,
+And points at them for his. What? is this so?
+  1 I Sir, all this is so. But why
+Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
+Come Sisters, cheere we vp his sprights,
+And shew the best of our delights.
+Ile Charme the Ayre to giue a sound,
+While you performe your Antique round:
+That this great King may kindly say,
+Our duties, did his welcome pay.
+Musicke. The Witches Dance, and vanish.
+  Macb. Where are they? Gone?
+Let this pernitious houre,
+Stand aye accursed in the Kalender.
+Come in, without there.
+Enter Lenox.
+  Lenox. What's your Graces will
+   Macb. Saw you the Weyard Sisters?
+  Lenox. No my Lord
+   Macb. Came they not by you?
+  Lenox. No indeed my Lord
+   Macb. Infected be the Ayre whereon they ride,
+And damn'd all those that trust them. I did heare
+The gallopping of Horse. Who was't came by?
+  Len. 'Tis two or three my Lord, that bring you word:
+Macduff is fled to England
+   Macb. Fled to England?
+  Len. I, my good Lord
+   Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits:
+The flighty purpose neuer is o're-tooke
+Vnlesse the deed go with it. From this moment,
+The very firstlings of my heart shall be
+The firstlings of my hand. And euen now
+To Crown my thoughts with Acts: be it thoght & done:
+The Castle of Macduff, I will surprize.
+Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword
+His Wife, his Babes, and all vnfortunate Soules
+That trace him in his Line. No boasting like a Foole,
+This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole,
+But no more sights. Where are these Gentlemen?
+Come bring me where they are.
+Scena Secunda.
+Enter Macduffes Wife, her Son, and Rosse.
+  Wife. What had he done, to make him fly the Land?
+  Rosse. You must haue patience Madam
+   Wife. He had none:
+His flight was madnesse: when our Actions do not,
+Our feares do make vs Traitors
+   Rosse. You know not
+Whether it was his wisedome, or his feare
+   Wife. Wisedom? to leaue his wife, to leaue his Babes,
+His Mansion, and his Titles, in a place
+From whence himselfe do's flye? He loues vs not,
+He wants the naturall touch. For the poore Wren
+(The most diminitiue of Birds) will fight,
+Her yong ones in her Nes


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