Macbeth+Act+IV

SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.
> //Thunder. Enter the three Witches// **First Witch** > Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

**Second Witch** > Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

**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 stone

> Days and nights has thirty-one

> Swelter'd venom sleeping got,

> Boil thou first i' the 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 owlet'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,

> Witches' mummy, maw and gulf

> Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,

> Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,

> Liver of blaspheming Jew,

> Gall of goat, and slips of yew

> Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,

> Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,

> Finger of birth-strangled babe

> Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,

> Make the gruel thick and slab:

> Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,

> For the 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 to the other three Witches// **HECATE** > O well done! I commend your pains;

> And every one shall share i' the gains;

> And now about the cauldron sing,

> Live elves and fairies in a ring,

> Enchanting all that you put in.

> //Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c// > //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,

> Howe'er 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 germens 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 murderer'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'ld 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; GHOST OF BANQUO following// **MACBETH** > Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!

> Thy crown does sear 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 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 two-fold balls and treble scepters 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// **MACBETH** > Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour

> Stand 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 hear

> The galloping of horse: who was't 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** > 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 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 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 a 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** > Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

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

**LADY MACDUFF** > Every one.

**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 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. 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 defence,

> To say I have done no harm?

> //Enter Murderers// > What are these faces?

**First Murderer** > Where is your husband?

**LADY MACDUFF** > I hope, in no place so unsanctified

> Where such as thou mayst find him.

**First Murderer** > He's a traitor.

**Son** > Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!

**First Murderer** > What, you egg!

> //Stabbing him// > Young fry of treachery!

**Son** > He has kill'd me, mother:

> Run away, I pray you!

> //Dies// > //Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, 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 down-fall'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 dolour.

**MALCOLM** > What I believe I'll wail,

> 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 the brightest fell;

> Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,

> Yet grace must still look so.

**MACDUFF** > I have lost my hopes.

**MALCOLM** > Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.

> Why in that rawness left you wife and child,

> Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,

> Without leave-taking? I pray you,

> Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,

> But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,

> Whatever I shall think.

**MACDUFF** > Bleed, bleed, poor country!

> Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,

> For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou

> thy wrongs;

> The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:

> I would not be the villain that thou think'st

> For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,

> And the rich East to boot.

**MALCOLM** > Be not offended:

> I speak not as in absolute fear of you.

> I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;

> It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash

> Is added to her wounds: I think withal

> There would be hands uplifted in my right;

> And here from gracious England have I offer

> Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,

> When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,

> Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country

> Shall have more vices than it had before,

> More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,

> By him that shall succeed.

**MACDUFF** > What should he be?

**MALCOLM** > It is myself I mean: in whom I know

> All the particulars of vice so grafted

> That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth

> Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state

> Esteem him as a lamb, being compared

> With my confineless harms.

**MACDUFF** > Not in the legions

> Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd

> In evils to top Macbeth.

**MALCOLM** > I grant him bloody,

> Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,

> Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin

> That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,

> In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,

> Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up

> The cistern of my lust, and my desire

> All continent impediments would o'erbear

> That did oppose my will: better Macbeth

> Than such an one to reign.

**MACDUFF** > Boundless intemperance

> In nature is a tyranny; it hath been

> The untimely emptying of the happy throne

> And fall of many kings. But fear not yet

> To take upon you what is yours: you may

> Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,

> And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.

> We have willing dames enough: there cannot be

> That vulture in you, to devour so many

> As will to greatness dedicate themselves,

> Finding it so inclined.

**MALCOLM** > With this there grows

> In my most ill-composed affection such

> A stanchless avarice that, were I king,

> I should cut off the nobles for their lands,

> Desire his jewels and this other's house:

> And my more-having would be as a sauce

> To make me hunger more; that I should forge

> Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,

> Destroying them for wealth.

**MACDUFF** > This avarice

> Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root

> Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been

> The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;

> Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will.

> Of your mere own: all these are portable,

> With other graces weigh'd.

**MALCOLM** > But I have none: the king-becoming graces,

> As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,

> Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,

> Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,

> I have no relish of them, but abound

> In the division of each several crime,

> Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should

> Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,

> Uproar the universal peace, confound

> All unity on earth.

**MACDUFF** > O Scotland, Scotland!

**MALCOLM** > If such a one be fit to govern, speak:

> I am as I have spoken.

**MACDUFF** > Fit to govern!

> No, not to live. O nation miserable,

> With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,

> When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,

> Since that the truest issue of thy throne

> By his own interdiction stands accursed,

> And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father

> Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,

> Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,

> Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!

> These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself

> Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,

> Thy hope ends here!

**MALCOLM** > Macduff, this noble passion,

> Child of integrity, hath from my soul

> Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts

> To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth

> By many of these trains hath sought to win me

> Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me

> From over-credulous haste: but God above

> Deal between thee and me! for even now

> I put myself to thy direction, and

> Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure

> The taints and blames I laid upon myself,

> For strangers to my nature. I am yet

> Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,

> Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,

> At no time broke my faith, would not betray

> The devil to his fellow and delight

> No less in truth than life: my first false speaking

> Was this upon myself: what I am truly,

> Is thine and my poor country's to command:

> Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,

> Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,

> Already at a point, was setting forth.

> Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness

> Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

**MACDUFF** > Such welcome and unwelcome things at once

> 'Tis hard to reconcile.

> //Enter a Doctor// **MALCOLM** > Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?

**Doctor** > Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls

> That stay his cure: their malady convinces

> The great assay of art; but at his touch--

> Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand--

> They presently amend.

**MALCOLM** > I thank you, doctor.

> //Exit Doctor// **MACDUFF** > What's the disease he means?

**MALCOLM** > 'Tis call'd the evil:

> A most miraculous work in this good king;

> Which often, since my here-remain in England,

> I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,

> Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,

> All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,

> The mere despair of surgery, he cures,

> Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,

> Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,

> To the succeeding royalty he leaves

> The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,

> He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,

> And sundry blessings hang about his throne,

> That speak him full of grace.

> //Enter ROSS// **MACDUFF** > See, who comes here?

**MALCOLM** > My countryman; but yet I know him not.

**MACDUFF** > My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

**MALCOLM** > I know him now. Good God, betimes remove

> The means that makes us strangers!

**ROSS** > Sir, amen.

**MACDUFF** > Stands Scotland where it did?

**ROSS** > Alas, poor country!

> Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot

> Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,

> But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;

> Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air

> Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems

> A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell

> Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives

> Expire before the flowers in their caps,

> Dying or ere they sicken.

**MACDUFF** > O, relation

> Too nice, and yet too true!

**MALCOLM** > What's the newest grief?

**ROSS** > That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker:

> Each minute teems a new one.

**MACDUFF** > How does my wife?

**ROSS** > Why, well.

**MACDUFF** > And all my children?

**ROSS** > Well too.

**MACDUFF** > The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

**ROSS** > No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

**MACDUFF** > But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

**ROSS** > When I came hither to transport the tidings,

> Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour

> Of many worthy fellows that were out;

> Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,

> For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:

> Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland

> Would create soldiers, make our women fight,

> To doff their dire distresses.

**MALCOLM** > Be't their comfort

> We are coming thither: gracious England hath

> Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;

> An older and a better soldier none

> That Christendom gives out.

**ROSS** > Would I could answer

> This comfort with the like! But I have words

> That would be howl'd out in the desert air,

> Where hearing should not latch them.

**MACDUFF** > What concern they?

> The general cause? or is it a fee-grief

> Due to some single breast?

**ROSS** > No mind that's honest

> But in it shares some woe; though the main part

> Pertains to you alone.

**MACDUFF** > If it be mine,

> Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

**ROSS** > Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,

> Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound

> That ever yet they heard.

**MACDUFF** > Hum! I guess at it.

**ROSS** > Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes

> Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,

> Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,

> To add the death of you.

**MALCOLM** > Merciful heaven!

> What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;

> Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak

> Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

**MACDUFF** > My children too?

**ROSS** > Wife, children, servants, all

> That could be found.

**MACDUFF** > And I must be from thence!

> My wife kill'd too?

**ROSS** > I have said.

**MALCOLM** > Be comforted:

> Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,

> To cure this deadly grief.

**MACDUFF** > He has no children. All my pretty ones?

> Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?

> What, all my pretty chickens and their dam

> At one fell swoop?

**MALCOLM** > Dispute it like a man.

**MACDUFF** > I shall do so;

> But I must also feel it as a man:

> I cannot but remember such things were,

> That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,

> And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,

> They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,

> Not for their own demerits, but for mine,

> Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

**MALCOLM** > Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief

> Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

**MACDUFF** > O, I could play the woman with mine eyes

> And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,

> Cut short all intermission; front to front

> Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;

> Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,

> Heaven forgive him too!

**MALCOLM** > This tune goes manly.

> Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;

> Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth

> Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above

> Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may:

> The night is long that never finds the day.

> //Exeunt//