your Highness ?

Macb. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my good Lord?

Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: never

Thy gory locks at me.

Rosse.

shake

Gentlemen, risc; his Highness is not

well,

Lady M. Sit, worthy friends:

often thus,

my lord is And hath been from his youth: 'pray you, keep

seat;

The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again 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. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on

that

Which might appal the devil.

Lady M. O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear:

This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. 0, these flaws, and starts,
(Impostors to true fear,) would well become
A woman's story, at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam.

Shame itself!

Why do make such faces? When all's done,
You lock but on a stool.

Mach. Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send

Those

Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

Lady M.

What! quite unmann'd in folly?

Macb If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady M. Fie, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now

olden time,

i' the

Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal:
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would

die,

And there an end: but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: This is more strange Than such a murder is.

Lady M. My worthy Lord, Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb. I do forget:

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing,
To those that know me.

Then I'll sit down:

Come, love and health to all;

Give me some wine, fill full:

I drink to the general joy of the whole table,

Ghost rises.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, And all to all.

Lords. Our duties and the pledge.

Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Vol. VII.

4

Thou hast no speculation in those cyes
Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M. Think of this, good Peers,
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
[Ghost disappears.
Unreal mockery, hence! Why, so; - being

gone,

I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.

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

Mach. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person,

At our great bidding?

Lady M. Did you send to him, Sir?

Mach. 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 fec'd. 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 scaun'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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The Heath.

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 traffick 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 magick 'slights,
Shall raise such artificial sprights,