ACT FOUR
SCENE I. A dark cave. In the middle, a cauldron boiling.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 WITCH Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
2 WITCH Thrice and once the hedge-pig whin’d.
3 WITCH Harpier cries; ’tis time, ’tis time.
1 WITCH Round about the cauldron go;
[5]
In the poison’d entrails throw.
Toad that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelt’red venom sleeping got
Boil thou first i’ th’ charmed pot.
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ALL Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
2 WITCH Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
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Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing --
For a charm of pow’rful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
[20]
ALL Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
3 WITCH Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch’s mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,
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Root of hemlock digg’d i’ th’ dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,
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Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab --
Make the gruel thick and slab;
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For th’ ingredience of our cauldron.
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ALL Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
2 WITCH Cool it with a baboon’s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter HECATE.
HECATE O, well done! I commend your pains;
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And every one shall share i’ th’ gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
[Music and a song: ‘Black spirits, etc’ Exit Hecate.
2 WITCH By the pricking of my thumbs,
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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.
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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;
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Though bladed com be lodg’d 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,
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Even till destruction sicken – answer me
To what I ask you.
1 WITCH Speak.
2 WITCH Demand.
3 WITCH We’ll answer.
1 WITCH Say, if thou’dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters?
MACBETH Call ’em; let me see ’em.
1 WITCH Pour in sow’s blood that hath eaten
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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 --
1 WITCH He knows thy thought.
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Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
APPARITION Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
Beware Macduff;
Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.
[He descends.
MACBETH Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
Thou hast harp’d my fear aright. But one word more --
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1 WITCH He will not be commanded. Here’s another,
More potent than the first.
Thunder. Second Apparition, a Bloody Child.
APPARITION Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
MACBETH Had I three ears, I’d hear thee.
APPARITION Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
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The pow’r 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 shall not live;
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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.
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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 Bimam wood to high Dunsinane Hill
Shall come against him. [Descends.
MACBETH That will never be.
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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
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To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing; tell me, if your an
Can tell so much – shall Banquo’s issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?
ALL Seek to know...