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That two-fold 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. [Apparitions vanish.]

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. Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this per

nicious hour Stand

aye

accursed in the calendar!
Come in, without there!

Enter LENNOX.
LEN.

What's your grace's will?
MACB. Saw you the weird sisters?
LEN.
Macb. Came they not by you?
LEN.

No, indeed, my lord.
MACB. Infected be the air whereon they ride;
And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
The galloping of horse: who was't came by?

LEN. 'Tis two orthree, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.
МАСв.

Fled to England !

No, my lord.

LEN. Ay, my good lord.

MACB. 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. L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly

the land? Ross. You must have patience, madam. L. Macd.

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. L. Macd. 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 ;

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you:

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 rumour
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
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 !

L. MacD. 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. L, MACD.

Sirrah, your father's dead : And what will

you

do now? How will you live? Son. As birds do, mother. L. Macd.

What, with worms and flies ? Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. L. Macd. 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. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead : how wilt thou do for

a father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. MacD. Why, I can buy me twenty at any

market. Son. Then

you 'll buy 'em to sell again. L. MacD. Thou speak’st with all thy wit; and

yet, i' faith, With wit enough for thee. Son. Was my

father

a traitor, mother?
L. MacD. Ay, that he was.
SON. What is a traitor?
L. MacD. Why, one that swears and lies.
Son. And be all traitors that do so?

L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

Son. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

L. MacD. Every one.
Son. Who must hang them?
L. Macd. 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.

L. Macd. 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

is the

do for

and

you would not, it were a good sign that I should
quickly have a new father.
L. MACD. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

Enter a Messenger.
Mess, Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you

known,
Though in your state of honour 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. Heavenpreserveyou!
I dare abide no longer.
L. Macd.

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 defence,
To
say
I have done no harm?
Enter Murderers.

What are these faces ?
FIRST MUR. Where is your husband ?

L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
FIRST MUR.

He's a traitor.
Son. Thou liest, thou shag-hair’d villain !
FIRST MUR.

What, you egg!

[Exit.

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[Stabbing him.

F

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