Act IVScene I
A dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron Boiling
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
First Witch
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
Second Witch
Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin’d.
Third Witch
Harpier cries:—’Tis time, ’tis time.
First Witch
Round about the cauldron go;In the poison’d entrails throw.—Toad, that under cold stoneDays and nights has thirty-oneSwelter’d venom sleeping got,Boil thou first i’ th’ charmed pot!
All
Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Second Witch
Fillet of a fenny snake,In the cauldron boil and bake;Eye of newt, and toe of frog,Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,For a charm of powerful trouble,Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
All
Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Third Witch
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,Witch’s mummy, maw and gulfOf the ravin’d salt-sea shark,Root of hemlock digg’d i’ th’ dark,Liver of blaspheming Jew,Gall of goat, and slips of yewSliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,Finger of birth-strangled babeDitch-deliver’d by a drab,Make the gruel thick and slab:Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,For th’ ingredients of our cauldron.
All
Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
Second Witch
Cool it with a baboon’s blood.Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter Hecate.
Hecate
O, well done! I commend your pains,And everyone shall share i’ th’ gains.And now about the cauldron sing,Like elves and fairies in a ring,Enchanting all that you put in.
Music and a song: “Black Spirits,” &c.
Exit Hecate.
Second Witch
By the pricking of my thumbs,Something wicked this way comes.Open, locks,Whoever knocks!
Enter Macbeth.
Macbeth
How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!What is’t you do?
All
A deed without a name.
Macbeth
I conjure you, by that which you profess,(Howe’er you come to know it) answer me:Though you untie the winds, and let them fightAgainst the churches; though the yesty wavesConfound and swallow navigation up;Though bladed corn be lodg’d, and trees blown down;Though castles topple on their warders’ heads;Though palaces and pyramids do slopeTheir heads to their foundations; though the treasureOf nature’s germens tumble all together,Even till destruction sicken, answer meTo what I ask you.
First Witch
Speak.
Second Witch
Demand.
Third Witch
We’ll answer.
First Witch
Say, if thou’dst rather hear it from our mouths,Or from our masters?
Macbeth
Call ’em, let me see ’em.
First Witch
Pour in sow’s blood, that hath eatenHer nine farrow; grease that’s sweatenFrom the murderer’s gibbet throwInto the flame.
All
Come, high or low;Thyself and office deftly show!
Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.
Macbeth
Tell me, thou unknown power,—
First Witch
He knows thy thought:Hear his speech, but say thou naught.
Apparition
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff;Beware the Thane of Fife.—Dismiss me.—Enough.
Descends.
Macbeth
Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;Thou hast harp’d my fear aright.—But one word more.
First Witch
He will not be commanded. Here’s another,More potent than the first.
Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises.
Apparition
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
Macbeth
Had I three ears, I’d hear thee.
Apparition
Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scornThe power of man, for none of woman bornShall harm Macbeth.
Descends.
Macbeth
Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?But yet I’ll make assurance double sure,And take a bond of fate. Thou shalt not live;That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,And sleep in spite of thunder.
Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand, rises.
What is this,That rises like the issue of a king,And wears upon his baby brow the roundAnd top of sovereignty?
All
Listen, but speak not to’t.
Apparition
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no careWho chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be, untilGreat Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hillShall come against him.
Descends.
Macbeth
That will never be:Who can impress the forest; bid the treeUnfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!Rebellious head, rise never till the woodOf Birnam rise, and our high-plac’d MacbethShall live the lease of nature, pay his breathTo time and mortal custom.—Yet my heartThrobs to know one thing: tell me, if your artCan tell so much, shall Banquo’s issue everReign in this kingdom?
All
Seek to know no more.
Macbeth
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?
Hautboys.
First Witch
Show!
Second Witch
Show!
Third Witch
Show!
All
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;Come like shadows, so depart!
A show of eight kings appear, and pass over in order, the last with a glass in his hand; Banquo following.
Macbeth
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo. Down!Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:—and thy hair,Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.A third is like the former.—Filthy hags!Why do you show 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 glassWhich shows me many more; and some I seeThat twofold balls and treble sceptres carry.Horrible sight!—Now I see ’tis true;For the blood-bolter’d Banquo smiles upon me,And points at them for his.—What! is this so?
First Witch
Ay, sir, all this is so:—but whyStands Macbeth thus amazedly?—Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,And show 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.
Macbeth
Where are they? Gone?—Let this pernicious hourStand aye accursed in the calendar!—Come in, without there!
Enter Lennox.
Lennox
What’s your Grace’s will?
Macbeth
Saw you the Weird Sisters?
Lennox
No, my lord.
Macbeth
Came they not by you?
Lennox
No, indeed, my lord.
Macbeth
Infected be the air whereon they ride;And damn’d all those that trust them!—I did hearThe galloping of horse: who was’t came by?
Lennox
’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you wordMacduff is fled to England.
Macbeth
Fled to England!
Lennox
Ay, my good lord.
Macbeth
Time, thou anticipat’st my dread exploits:The flighty purpose never is o’ertookUnless the deed go with it. From this momentThe very firstlings of my heart shall beThe 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 th’ edge o’ th’ swordHis wife, his babes, and all unfortunate soulsThat trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;This deed I’ll do before this purpose cool:But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?Come, bring me where they are.
Exeunt.