[Witches vanish.]
BANQUO.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them: — whither are they vanish'd?
MACBETH.
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
As breath into the wind. — Would they had stay'd!
BANQUO.
Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
MACBETH.
Your children shall be kings.
BANQUO.
You shall be king.
MACBETH.
And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
BANQUO.
To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
[Enter Ross and Angus.]
ROSS.
The king hath happily receiv'd, 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: silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same 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 defense,
And pour'd them down before him.
ANGUS.
We are sent
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
