ACT 2 SCENE 1 Enter a Fairy at one door, and PUCK at another PUCK How now spirit! whither wander you?

Transcription

1 ACT 2 SCENE 1 Enter a Fairy at one door, and PUCK at another PUCK How now spirit! whither wander you? Fairy Over hill, over dale, through bush, through briar, Over park, over pale, through flood, through fire, I do wander everywhere, swifter than the Moon's sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, to dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be: In their gold coats, spots you see; Those be Rubies, Fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone: Our Queen and all our elves come here anon. PUCK The King doth keep his Revels here to-night, Take heed the Queen come not within his sight; For Oberon is passing fell and wrath, Because that she, as her attendant, hath A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian King; She never had so sweet a changeling; And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight of his train, to trace the Forests wild. But she (perforce) withholds the loved boy, Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy. And now they never meet in grove, or green, By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen, But they do square, that all their Elves for fear Creep into Acorn-cups and hide them there. Fairy Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish spirit Call'd Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he That frights the maidens of the villagery; Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern And bootless make the breathless housewife churn; And sometime make the drink to bear no barm; Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,

2 You do their work, and they shall have good luck. Are not you he? PUCK Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon and make him smile When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal, And sometime lurk I in a Gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab, And when she drinks, against her lips I bob And on her wither'd dewlap pour the Ale. The wisest Aunt telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough. And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh, And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear, A merrier hour was never wasted there. But room Fairy, here comes Oberon. Fairy And here my Mistress. Would that he were gone. Enter, from one side,, with his train; from the other, TITANIA, with hers Ill met by Moonlight, Proud Titania. TITANIA What, jealous Oberon! Fairy skip hence. I have forsworn his bed and company. Tarry rash Wanton: am not I thy Lord? TITANIA Then I must be thy Lady: but I know When thou hast stolen away from fairy land, And in the shape of Corin sat all day, Playing on pipes of Corn and versing love To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here Come from the farthest Steppe of India? But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskin'd Mistress and your Warrior love,

3 To Theseus must be wedded, and you come To give their bed joy and prosperity. How canst thou thus for shame, Titania, Glance at my credit with Hippolyta? Knowing I know thy love to Theseus? Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night From Perigenia, whom he ravished? And make him with fair AEgle break his faith, With Ariadne and Antiopa? TITANIA These are the forgeries of jealousy, And never, since the middle Summer's spring Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs: which falling in the land Have every petty river made so proud That they have overborne their continents: The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard: The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green For lack of tread are undistinguishable. The human mortals want their winter here; No night is now with hymn or carol blest: Therefore the Moon (the governess of floods) Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound. And through this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoared-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,

4 The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which: And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension; We are their parents and original. Do you amend it then; it lies in you: Why should Titania cross her Oberon? I do but beg a little changeling boy, To be my Henchman. TITANIA Set your heart at rest: The Fairy land buys not the child of me. His mother was a Votaress of my order, And, in the spiced Indian air, by night, Full often hath she gossip'd by my side, And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands, Marking the embarked traders on the flood, When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind: Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait Following (her womb then rich with my young squire) Would imitate, and sail upon the Land, To fetch me trifles, and return again, As from a voyage, rich with merchandise. But she, being mortal, of that boy did die; And for her sake do I rear up her boy, And for her sake I will not part with him. How long within this wood intend you stay? TITANIA Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day. If you will patiently dance in our Round And see our Moonlight revels, go with us; If not, shun me and I will spare your haunts. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. TITANIA Not for thy Fairy Kingdom. Fairies, away! We shall chide downright, if I longer stay. Exit TITANIA with her train

5 Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove Till I torment thee for this injury. My gentle Puck come hither. Thou rememberest Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath That the rude sea grew civil at her song And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music. PUCK I remember. That very time I saw (but thou couldst not) Flying between the cold Moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts; But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once: The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees. Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again Ere the leviathan can swim a league. PUCK I'll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes. Exit Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon,

6 (Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape) She shall pursue it with the soul of love. And ere I take this charm from off her sight, (As I can take it with another herb) I'll make her render up her Page to me. But who comes here? I am invisible; And I will overhear their conference. Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA, following him DEMETRIUS I love thee not, therefore pursue me not. Where is Lysander and fair Hermia? The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me. Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood; And here am I, and wood within this wood, Because I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. HELENA You draw me, you hard-hearted Adamant, But yet you draw not Iron, for my heart Is true as steel. Leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you. DEMETRIUS Do I entice you? do I speak you fair? Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you? HELENA And even for that do I love you the more. I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius, The more you beat me, I will fawn on you, Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave, (Unworthy as I am) to follow you. What worser place can I beg in your love, (And yet a place of high respect with me) Than to be used as you use your dog? DEMETRIUS Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit; For I am sick when I do look on thee. HELENA And I am sick when I look not on you.

7 DEMETRIUS You do impeach your modesty too much, To leave the City and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity. HELENA Your virtue is my privilege: for that It is not night when I do see your face. Therefore I think I am not in the night; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me? DEMETRIUS I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts. HELENA The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The Dove pursues the Griffin; the mild Hind Makes speed to catch the Tiger. Bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies. DEMETRIUS I will not stay thy questions; let me go: Or, if thou follow me, do not believe But I shall do thee mischief in the wood. HELENA Ay, in the Temple, in the Town, the Field, You do me mischief. Fie Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be woo d and were not made to woo. Exit DEMETRIUS I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well. Exit

8 Fare thee well Nymph: ere he do leave this grove, Thou shalt fly him, and he shall seek thy love. Re-enter PUCK Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer. PUCK Ay, there it is. I pray thee, give it me. I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with Eglantine: There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes, And make her full of hateful fantasies. Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove: A sweet Athenian Lady is in love With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes, But do it when the next thing he espies May be the Lady. Thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove More fond on her than she upon her love: And look thou meet me ere the first Cock crow. PUCK Fear not, my Lord, your servant shall do so. ExeunT SCENE III. A heath Thunder. Enter the three Witches Drum within Third Witch A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.

9 ALL The weyward sisters, hand in hand, 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. Enter and So foul and fair a day I have not seen. How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, 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! Second Witch All hail Macbeth, hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! Third Witch All hail Macbeth, thou shalt be King hereafter! Good Sir, why do you start; and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My Noble Partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction Of Noble having and of Royal hope, That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. If you can look into the Seeds of time, And say which Grain will grow and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear Your favours, nor your hate. First Witch Hail!

10 Second Witch Hail! Third Witch Hail! First Witch Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. Second Witch Not so happy, yet much happier. Third Witch Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! First Witch Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: By Sinel's death I know I am Thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange Intelligence, or why Upon this blasted Heath you stop our way With such Prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. Witches vanish The Earth hath bubbles, as the Water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? Into the Air; and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the Wind. Would they had stay'd. Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? Your children shall be Kings. You shall be King. And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

11 Enter ROSS and ANGUS ROSS The King hath happily received, Macbeth, The news of thy success... ANGUS We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; ROSS 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? The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes? ANGUS Who was the Thane lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor! The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains. Do you not hope your children shall be Kings, When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me Promised no less to them? 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, Win us with honest Trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you. Two truths are told, As happy Prologues to the swelling act Of the Imperial Theme. I thank you Gentlemen. This supernatural soliciting

12 Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill? 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, Against the use of Nature? Present Fears Are less than horrible imaginings: My Thought, whose Murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man that function Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is But what is not. Look, how our partner's rapt. If chance will have me King, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. New horrors come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use. Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Give me your favour: my dull Brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind Gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them. Let us toward the King. Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. Till then, enough. Come, friends. Exeunt Very gladly.

13 The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!' PUCK Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow'd house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door.

14 Act2 Scene2 LADY My husband! I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? LADY I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? When? LADY LADY Ay. Now. As I descended? Hark! Who lies i' the second chamber? LADY Donalbain. LADY This is a sorry sight. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried 'Murder!' That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep. LADY There are two lodged together. One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' When they did say 'God bless us!' LADY Consider it not so deeply.

15 But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat. LADY These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- LADY What do you mean? Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' LADY Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy Thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them; and smear The sleepy grooms with blood. I'll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on't again I dare not. LADY Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; For it must seem their guilt. Exit. Knocking within Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.

16 Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, Making the green one red. Re-enter Lady LADY My hands are of your colour; but I shame To wear a heart so white. Knocking within I hear a knocking At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended. Knocking within Hark! more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. Knocking within Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! Exeunt