Listen, but speak not to't.
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.
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-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?
Seek to know no more.
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?
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
[Eight kings appear, and pass over in order, the last with a
glass in his hand; Banquo following.]
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs: — 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 twofold balls and treble sceptres carry:
Horrible sight! — Now I see 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. — What! is this so?
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.]
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