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Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Ser. Yes;

As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.

If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharged with double. cracks; so they

Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,

Or memorize another Golgotha,3
I cannot tell

But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.

Dun. So well thy words become.

thee as thy wounds;

They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.

[Exit Sergeant, attended.

Who comes here?

Enter Ross

Mal. The worthy thane of Ross. Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange. Ross. God save the king! Dun. Whence camest thou, worthy thane? Ross. From Fife, great king; Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky

And fan our people cold. Norway himself

With terrible numbers,

Assisted by that most disloyal traitor The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;

Till that Bellona's' bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,

3 Golgotha: a place of skulls; see Matthew 27:33. 4 Bellona's bridegroom: Bellona was the Goddess of War.

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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.

Sec. Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
First Witch. Thou'rt kind.

Third Witch. And I another.
First Witch. I myself have all the

And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.

I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary se'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.

Sec. Witch. Show me, show me.
First Witch. Here I have a pilot's

Wreck'd as homeward he did come. [Drum within.

Third Witch. A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace! the charm's wound up.


Macb. So foul and fair a day I have

not seen.

Ban. How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these

So wither'd, and so wild in their attire,

That look not like the inhabitants o'

the earth,

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Enter Ross and ANGUS Ross. The king hath happily re

ceived, 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: silenced with that,

In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,

He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,

Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,

Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post

with post, and every one

did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great

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