The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
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Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
SECOND WITCH. Cool it with a baboon’s blood, Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter Hecate to the other three Witches.
HECATE. O, well done! I commend your pains, And everyone shall share i’ the 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.”
Hecate retires.
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 (Howeer you come to know it) answer me: Though you untie the winds and let them fight Against the churches, though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up,
Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down, Though castles topple on their warders’ heads, Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations, though the treasure Of nature’s germaines tumble all together Even till destruction sicken, answer me To 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 eaten Her nine farrow; grease that’s sweaten From the murtherer’s gibbet throw
Into the flame.
ALL. Come, high or low;
Thyself and office deftly show!
Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head.
MACBETH. Tell me, thou unknown power—
FIRST WITCH. He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
FIRST 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. Second Apparition: a bloody Child.
SECOND APPARITION. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
MACBETH. Had I three ears, I’d hear thee.
SECOND APPARITION. Be bloody, bold, and resolute: laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall 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. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand.
What is this,
That rises like the issue of a king,
And wears upon his baby brow the round And top of sovereignty?
ALL. Listen, but speak not to’t.
THIRD APPARITION. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.
Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be until Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill Shall come against him. Descends.
MACBETH. That will never be.
Who can impress the forest, bid the tree Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
Rebellion’s head, rise never till the Wood Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art Can tell so much, shall Banquo’s issue ever Reign 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, the last with a glass in his hand; Banquo’s Ghost 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 the crack of doom?
Another yet! A seventh! I’ll see no more!
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass Which shows me many more; and some I see That 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 why Stands 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 then vanish with Hecate.
MACBETH. are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour Stand ay 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 hear The galloping of horse. Who wast came by?
LENNOX. ‘Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word Macduff is fled to England.
MACBETH. Fled to England?
LENNOX. Ay, my good lord.
MACBETH. [Aside.] Time, thou anticipatest 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’ the sword 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 sights! -Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Fife. Macduff’s castle.
Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross.
LADY MACDUFF. What had he done, to make him fly the land?
ROSS. You must have patience, madam.
LADY MACDUFF. He had none;
His flight was madness. When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.
ROSS. You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
LADY MACDUFF. 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.
ROSS. My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself. But for your husband, He is noble, wise, Judicious, and best knows The fits o’ the season. I dare not speak much further; But cruel are the times when we are traitors And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumor From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, But float upon a wild and violent sea Each way and move. I take my leave of you; Shall not be long but I’ll be here again.
Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before. My pretty cousin, Blessing upon you!
LADY MACDUFF. Father’d he is, and yet he’s fatherless.
ROSS. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, It would be my disgrace and your discomfort.
I take my leave at once. Exit.
LADY MACDUFF. Sirrah, your father’s dead.
And what will you do now? How will you live?
SON. As birds do, Mother.
LADY MACDUFF. What, with worms and flies?
SON. With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
LADY MACDUFF. Poor bird! Thou’ldst never fear the net nor lime, The pitfall nor the gin.
SON. Why should I, Mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
LADY MACDUFF. Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for father?
SON. Nay, how will you do for a husband?
LADY MACDUFF. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
SON. Then you’ll buy ‘em to sell again.
LADY MACDUFF. Thou speak’st with all thy wit, and yet, i’ faith, With wit enough for thee.
SON. Was my father a traitor, Mother?
LADY MACDUFF. Ay, that he was.
SON. What is a traitor?
LADY MACDUFF. Why one that swears and lies.
SON. And be all traitors that do so?
LADY MACDUFF. Everyone that does so is a traitor and must be hanged.
SON. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
LADY MACDUFF. Everyone.
SON. Who must hang them?
LADY MACDUFF. 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.
LADY MACDUFF. Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?
SON. If he were dead, you’ld weep for him; if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.
LADY MACDUFF. Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, Though in your state of honor I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly.
If you will take a homely man’s advice, Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage; To do worse to you were fell cruelty, Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer. Exit.
LADY MACDUFF. Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now I am in this earthly world, where to do harm Is often laudable, to do good sometime Accounted dangerous folly. Why then, alas, Do I put up that womanly defense,
To say I have done no harm -What are these faces?
Enter Murtherers.
FIRST MURTHERER. Where is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF. I hope, in no place so unsanctified Where such as thou mayst find him.
FIRST MURTHERER. He’s a traitor.
SON. Thou liest, thou shag-ear’d villain!
FIRST MURTHERER. What, you egg!
Stabs him.
Young fry of treachery!
SON. He has kill’d me, Mother.
Run away, I pray you! Dies.
Exit Lady Macduff, crying “Murther!”
Exeunt Murtherers, following her.
SCENE III.
England. Before the King’s palace.
Enter Malcolm and Macduff.
MALCOLM. Let us seek out some desolate shade and there Weep our sad bosoms empty.
MACDUFF. Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men Bestride our downfall’n birthdom. Each new morn New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland and yell’d out Like syllable of dolor.
MALCOLM. What I believe, I’ll wall;
What know, believe; and what I can redress, As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest. You have loved him well; He hath not touch’d you yet. I am young, but something You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb To appease an angry god.
MACDUFF. I am not treacherous.
MALCOLM. But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose.
Angels are bright still, though
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