« הקודםהמשך »
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, 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 germins tumble all together,
Even 'till destruction ficken, answer me
To what I ask you.
1. W. Speak.
2. W. Demand.
3. W. We'll answer.
1. W. Say, if thou'dft rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters'?
Mach. Call them, let me see them.
1.W. Pour in T fow's blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow ; grease, T that's sweaten
From the murtherer's gibbet, throw
Into the flame.
all. Come, high, or low;
Thyself, and office, deftly show.
Thunder. Apparition of an arm'd Head rises.
Macb. Tell me, thou unknown power,
1. W. He knows thy thought;
Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
App. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth, beware Macduff ; Beware the thane of Fife._Dismissme: Enough. [descends.
Macb. Whate'erthou art, forthy good caution, thanks; Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: But one word more.
1. W. He will not be commarled: Here's another, More potent than the first.
Thunder. Apparition of a bloody Child rises.
App. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth, -
Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.
App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute : laugh to scorn
The power man; for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.
Mac”. 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 spight of thunder.. What is this,
Thunder. Apparition of a Child crown'd,
with a Tree in his Hand, rises.
That rises like the issue of a king ;
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty?
all. Liften, but speak not.
App. Be lion-mettid, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are :
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to Dunfinane high hill
Shall come against him.
MAC". That will never be :
Who can impress the foreft; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? sweet boadments! good!-
Rebellious head, rise never, 'till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd 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.
MAC . I will be fatisfy'd : deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you: let me know:
(Thunder; and the Cauldron finks. Horrid Musick. Why finks that cauldron ? and what noise is this ?
1. W. Shew. 2.W. Shew. 3.W. Shew.
all. Shew his eyes, and grieve his heart ; Come like shadows, fo depart. Eight Kings appear, and pass over in Order; the last,
with a Glass in his Hand : Banquo following:
Mac”. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down;
Thy crown does fear mine eye-balls : - And thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first :
A third, is like the former: (Filthy hags,
Why do you lhew 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 shews me many more; and fome I fee,
That twofold balls and treble scepters carry :
Horrible fight! - Par, now, I fee, 'tis true ;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. _ What, is this for?
1. W. Ay, fir, all this is fo : But why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?.
Come, filters, cheer we up his sprights,
And Thew the best of our delights ;
I'll charm the air to give a found,
While you perform your antique round:
"That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.
[Musick. The Witches dance, and vanish. MAC". Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious Stand aye accursed in the kalendar!
[hour Come in, without there!
Len. What's your grace's will ?
MAC. Saw you the weird fifters ?
Len. No, my lord.
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 or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England ?
MAC". Fled to England ?
Len. Ay, my good lord.
Mac". Time, thou anticipat'it my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'er-took, 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 Tocrown my thoughts with acts, beit thought, and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprize ; 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 But no more sights. - Where are these gentlemen ? Come, bring me where they are.
[Exeunt. SCENE II. Fife. A Room in Macduff's Cafle.
Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and Rosse. L.Md. What had he done, to make him fly the land? Ros. You must have patience, madam. L.Md. He had none :
His fight was madness : When our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
Ros. You know not,
Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
L. M4. 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 moft diminutive of birds, will fight,
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.
Ros. 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,
And move each way. 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 !
L.Md. Father'd he is, and yet be's fatherless.
Ros. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.
L. Md. Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you