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2 Witch. Killing swine.
1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd :
Give me, quoth I: Aroint thee,' uitch! the rump-fed ronyono cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the Tiger: But in a sieve I'll thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
2 Witch. I'll give thee a' wind.
1 Witch. I myself have all the other ;
2 Witch. Show me, show me.
1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck’d, as homeward he did come.
Avaynt, begone. 2 A scurvy woman fed on offals. 3 Sailor's chart.
3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come.
All. The weird sisters, s hand in hand,
nine: Peace!--the charm's wound up.
Enter MacBeth and BANQUO.
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores? - What are these,
Macb. Speak, if you can ;-What are you? 1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
Glamis ! 2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
Cawdor! 3 IVitch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king
hereafter. Ban. Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair ?-I'the name of truth,
5 Prophetick sisters.
Are ye fantastical,6 or that indeed
1 Witch. Hail !
none : So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo !
1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail !
Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more : By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and, to be king, Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetick greeting ?-Speak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish, Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them :-Whither are they vanish'd ?
Macb. Into the air ; and what seem'd corporal,
melted As breath into the wind.—'Would they had staid! Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak
Macb. Your children shall be kings.
You shall be king.
Enter Rosse and ANGUS. Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, The news of thy success : and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, His wonders and his praises do contend, Which should be thine, .or his: Silenc'd with that, In viewing o'er the rest o’the self-same day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afеard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale, Came post with post ; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd them down before him. Ang.
We are sent, To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.
Rosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
9 The root which makes insane.
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
Ban. . What, can the devil speak true ?
dress me In borrow'd robes ? Ang.
Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was Combin'd with Norway; or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage; or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd, Have overthrown him. Macb.
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind.--Thanks for your pains.Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me, Promis'd no less to them? Ban.
That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle 3
unto the crown,
Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act