SCENE changes to the Palace at Foris.

Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Captain.

King WH

'Hat bloody man is that? he can report, As feemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.

Mal. This is the ferjeant,

Who like a good and hardy foldier fought
'Gainft my captivity, Hail, hail, brave friend!
Say to the King the knowledge of the broil,
As thou didst leave it.

Cap. Doubtful long it flood:

As two spent fwimmers that do cling together,
And choak their art: the mercilefs Macdonel
(Worthy to be a rebel; for to that
The multiplying villainies of nature

Do fwarm upon him) from the western ifles
Of Kernes and Gallow-glaffes was fupply'd;
And fortune, on his damned quarry fmiling,
Shew'd like a rebel's whore. But all too weak:
For brave Macbeth (well he deferves that name)
Difdaining fortune, with his brandifht steel
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion carved out his paffage,
'Till he had fac'd the flave;

Who ne'er fhook hands nor bid farewel to him,
Till he unfeam'd him from the nave to th' chops,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

King. Oh, valiant Coufin! worthy gentleman!
Cap. As whence the fun 'gins his reflection,
Shipwrecking forms and direful thunders break;
So from that fpring, whence comfort feem'd to come, (1)

Dif

1) So from that Spring, whence Comfort feem'd to come, Difcomfort fwell' d.] I have not disturbed the Text here, as the Senfe does not abfolutely require it; tho' Dr. Thirlby prefcribes a very ingenious and eafy Correction:

Discomfort fwell'd. Mark, King of Scotland, mark;
No fooner juftice had, with valour arm'd,

Compell'd these skipping Kernes to truft their heels;
But the Noraveyan Lord, furveying 'vantage,

With furbisht arms and new fupplies of men
Began a fresh affault.

King. Difmay'd not this

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Cap. Yes,

As fparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I fay footh, I muft report, they were

As cannons overcharg'd; with double cracks, (2)
So they redoubled strokes upon the foe :
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell

But I am faint, my gafhes cry for help.

King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds: They fmack of honour both. Go, get him furgeons. Enter Roffe and Angus.

But who comes here?

Mal. The worthy Thane of Roffe.

Len. What hafte looks through his eyes ?

So fhould he look, that feems to speak things ftrange. Roffe. God fave the King!

King. Whence cam'ft thou, worthy Thane?

So from the Spring, whence Comfort feem'd to come,

Difcomforts well'd.

i. e. ftream'd, flow'd forth: a Word that peculiarly agrees with the Metaphor of a Spring. The Original is Anglo-Saxon peallian, fcaturire; which very well expreffes the Diffufion and Scattering of

Water from its Head,

(2)

I must report they were

As Cannons overcharg'd with double Cracks.] Cannons overcharged with Cracks I have no Idea of: My Pointing, I think, gives the eafy and natural Senfe. Macbeth and Banquo were like Cannons overcharged; why? because they redoubled Strokes on the Foe with twice the Fury, and Impetuofity, as before.

Roffe. From Fife, great King,

Where the Norweyar Banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.

Norway, himself with numbers terrible, (3)
Affifted by that most disloyal traitor

The Thane of Cawdor, 'gan a difmal conflict:
"Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof, (4)
Confronted him with felf-comparisons,

Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainft arm,
Curbing his lavifh fpirit. To conclude,
The victory fell on us.

King. Great happiness !

Rofe. Now Sweno, Norway's King, craves compofition: Nor would we deign him burial of his men, 'Till he difburfed, at Saint Colmes-kill-isle, Ten thousand dollars, to our gen'ral use.

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor fhall deceive Our bofom int'reft. Go, pronounce his death; And with his former Title greet Macbeth.

Roffe. I'll fee it done.

King. What he hath loft, noble Macbeth hath won. [Exeunt.

(3) Norway himself, with Numbers terrible,

Afifted by that, &c.] Norway himself affifted, &c. is a Reading we owe to the Editors, not to the Poet. That Energy and Contraft of Expreffion are loft, which my Pointing reftores. The Senfe is, Norway, who was in himfelf terrible by his own Numbers, when affifted by Cawdor, became yet more terrible.

(4) Till that Bellona's Bridegroom, lapt in Proof, Confronted him with felf-Comparisons,

Point against point, rebellious arm 'gainst arm,

Curbing his lavish Spirit.] Here again we are to quarrel with the Tranfpofition of an innocent Comma; which however becomes dangerous to Senfe, when in the Hands either of a careless or ignorant Editor. Let us fee who is it, that brings this rebellious Arm? Why, it is Bellona's Bridegroom: and who is he, but Macbeth. We can never believe our Author meant any thing like this. My Regulation of the Pointing reftores the true Meaning; that the loyal Macbeth confronted the difloyal Cardor, arm to arm.

SCENE,

SCENE changes to the Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

Here haft thou been, fifter?

Witch. WH

3

2 Witch. Killing fwine.

Witch. Sifter, where thou?

i Witch. A failor's wife had chefnuts in her lap, And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht.

Give me,

quoth I.

Aroint thee, witch!

-the rump-fed ronyon cries.

Her husband's to Aleppo gone, mafter o'th' Tyger :

But in a fieve I'll thither fail,
And like a rat without a tail,
I'll do I'll do-and I'll do.
2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.
I Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other,
And the very points they blow;
All the quarters that they know,
I'th' fhip-man's card.

I will drain him dry as hay;
Sleep fhall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He fall live a man forbid;
Weary fev'n-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be loft,
Yet it fhall be tempeft-toft.

Look, what I have.

2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me.

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb,

Wreckt as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum!

Macbeth doth come !

[Drum within.

All. The Weird fifters, hand in hand, (5)

Pofters

(5) The wayward Sifters, hand in hand,] The Witches are here fpeaking of themfelves, and it is worth an Enquiry why they should

M 3

ftile

Posters of the fea 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.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers and other Attendants.

Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Foris? - What are these,
So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire,

That look not like the inhabitants o'th' earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught
That man may queftion? You feem to underftand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips ;
You fhould be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret,
That you are fo.

Mach. Speak, if you can; what are you?

1Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! 2Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! that fhalt be King hereafter. Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear 'Things that do found fo fair? I'th' name of truth, Are ye fantaftical, or that indeed [To the Witches. Which outwardly ye fhew? my noble partner You greet with prefent grace, and great prediction Of noble having, and of royal hope,

That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not.

ftile themselves the weyward, or wayward Sifters. This Word in its general Acceptation fignifies, perverfe, froward, moody, obftinate, untractable, &c. and is every where fo ufed by our Shakepeare. It is improbable, the Witches would adopt this Epithet to themfelves, in any of thefe Senfes; and therefore we are to look a little farther for the Poet's Word and Meaning. Wierd, in the Scotch Language, fignifies a Witch, or Wizard: and therefore, in every Paffage, where there is any Relation to these Witches or Wizards, my Emendation must be embraced, and we must read Wierd, or Weird.