No, this was he, Messala,
But Cassius is no more. O setting sun!
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night,
So in his red blood Cassius' day is set:
The sun of Rome is set. Our day is gone;
Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
Messala.
Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
O hateful error, melancholy's child!
Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
The things that are not? O error! soon con-
Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, [ceiv'd,
But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee.
Titinius.
What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pin-
darus?
Messala.
Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
Into his ears: I may say thrusting it;
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed,
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus,
As tidings of this sight.
Hie you, Messala,
And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
[Exit Messala.
Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius ?
Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they
Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear
their shouts ?
'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
We shall try fortune in a second fight. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field.
Alarum. Enter, fighting. Soldiers of both
Annies; then Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, and
others.
Brutus.
Yet, countrymen, O! yet hold up your heads.
Cato.
What bastard doth not? Who will go with
I will proclaim my name about the field.— [me?
I am the son of Marcus Cato, oh!
A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, oh!
Only I yield to die:
There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight.
[Offering Money
Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
First Soldier.
We must not.-A noble prisoner!
Second Soldier.
Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
First Soldier.
news:- Here comes the general.-
Enter Antony.
Alas! thou hast misconstrued every thing.
But hold thee; take this garland on thy brow:
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding.- Brutus, come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.-
By your leave, gods:-this is a Roman's part:
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart. Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
[Dies.
Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young
Cato, Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius.
Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
Lo! yonder; and Titinius mourning it.
Brutus.
Tilinius' face is upward.
O Julius Cæsar! thou art mighty yet.
Thy spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords
In our own proper entrails. [Low Alarume.
Brave Titinius! Look, whe'r he have not crown'd dead Cassius !
Are yet two Romans living such as these?-
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
It is impossible that ever Rome
[tears
Should breed thy fellow.- Friends, I owe more
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay.—
I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.-
Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body:
His funerals shall not be in our camp,
Lest it discomfort us.- Lucilius, come; -
And come, young Cato; let us to the field.-
Labco, and Flavius, set our battles on:-
Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word. Volumnius.
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato.- Countrymen,
My heart doth joy, that yet in all my life
I found no man, but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day,
More than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you weil at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history.
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would
That have but labour'd to attain this hour. [rest,
[Alarum. Cry within; Fly, fly, fly!
[Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and l'olumnius. pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord. Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold, then, my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
Give me your hand first: fare you well, my lord.
Farewell, good Strato.- Cæsar, now be still: I kill'd not thee with half so good a will. [He runs on his Sword, and dies. Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and their Army. Octavius.
My master's man. - Strato, where is thy master?
Free from the bondage you are in, Messala: The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death. Lucilius.
So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee,
Brutus,
That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.
Octavius.
All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Strato
Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
Octavius,
Do so, good Messala.
Messala. How died my master, Strato?
I held the sword, and he did run on it. Messala. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master.
This was the noblest Roman of them all:
All the conspirators, save only he,
Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar;
He, only, in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, "This was a man !
Octavius.
According to his virtue let us use him,
With all respect, and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.-
So, call the field to rest; and let's away
To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt.
DRAMATIS PERSON.
Young Siward, his Son.
Seyton, an Officer attending Macbeth.
Son to Macduff.
An English Doctor. A Scotch Doctor.
A Soldier. A Porter. An old Man.
Lady Macbeth.
Gentlewoman attending Lady Macbeth.
Hecate, and Witches.
Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers,
Attendants, and Messengers.
The Ghost of Banquo, and other Apparitions.
Siward, Earl of Northumberland, General of the SCENE, in the end of the fourth Act, in England; English Forces.
through the rest of the Play, in Scotland.
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.
This is the sergeant, Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought 'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil, As thou didst leave it.
Doubtful it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
(Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him) from the western isles
Of Kernes and Gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarry smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name),
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion, carv'd out his passage,
Till he fac'd the slave;
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to
him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the
chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
Duncan.
O, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Soldier.
As whence the sun 'gins his reflexion
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?
Rosse.
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,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point, rebellious arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us ;—
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition;
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
Till he disbursed at Saint Colmes' Inch
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
Duncan.
No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest.-Go, pronounce his present
And with his former title greet Macbeth. [death,
A sailor's wife had chesnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd: "Give me," quoth 1:
"Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon
cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
[Tiger:
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
And the very ports they blow,
I myself have all the other;
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.
I'll drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall, neither night nor day,
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid.
Weary sev'n-nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Show me, show me.
First Witch.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
A drum! a drum!
Macbeth doth come.
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.
The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Enter Macbeth and Banquo.
Macbeth.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Banquo.
How far is't call'd to Fores?-What are these,
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire,
That look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to under-
By each at once her chappy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: -You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
Speak, if you can.-What are you?
First Witch.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
Glamis !
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king here- Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, after.
Strange images of death. As thick as tale,
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?-I' the name of
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
[truth,
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great pre-
Of noble having, and of royal hope, [diction
That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
If you can look into the seeds of time,
Not
[not,
And say which grain will grow, and which will
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal,
As breath into the wind.-'Would they had stay'd!
To give thee from our royal master thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
pay thee.
Rosse.
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me from him call thee thane of Cawdor.
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane,
For it is thine.
What can the devil speak true?
Macbeth.
The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress
In borrow'd robes ?
Who was the thane, lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.
The greatest is behind.-Thanks for your pains.-
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?
Banquo.
That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths;
In deepest consequence.-
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
Cousins, a word, I pray you.
Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentle-
This supernatural soliciting
[men.-
Were such things here, as we do speak about, Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-if ill,
Or have we eaten on the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
You shall be king. Are less than horrible imaginings.
Against the use of nature? Present fears,
|