Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?

Abb. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [All gather to see him. Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.

Cour. As sure, my leige, as I do see your grace.

Duke. Why, this is strange; - Go call the
Abbess hither;

I think you are all mated, or stark mad.
[Exit an Attendant.
Æge. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak
a word;

Haply I see a friend will save my life,
And pay the sum that may deliver me.
Duke. Speak freely, Syracusan, what thou
wilt.

Æge. Is not your name, Sir, call'd Anti-
pholus?

And is not that your bondman Dromio ?

Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman,

And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand
Have written strange defeaturest in my face :
But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?

Ant. E. Neither.

Æge. Dromio, nor thou?

Dro. E. No, trust me, Sir, nor I.
Ege. I am sure, thou dost.

Dro. E. Ay, Sir; but I am sure, I do not; and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to belive him.

Æge. Not know my voice! O, time's extre-
mity!
[tongue,
Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor
In seven short years, that here my only son
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
Though now this grained face of mine be hid
In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up;
Yet hath my night of life some memory,
My wasting lamp some fading glimmer left,
My dull deaf ears a little use to hear:
All these old witnesses (I cannot err,)
Tell me, thou art my son Antipholus.

Ant. E. I never saw my father in my life.
Æge. But seven years since, in Syracusa,

boy,

Duke. One of these men is Genius to the
other;

And so of these: Which is the natural man,
And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?
Dro. S. I, Sir, am Dromio; command him
away.
Dro. E. I, Šir, am Dromio; pray let me stay.
Ant. S. Ægeon, art thou not? or else his
ghost?

Dro S. O, my old master! who hath bound
him here?

Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loose his
bonds,

And gain a a husband by his liberty:-
Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man
That had'st a wife once call'd Æmilia,
That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:
O, if thou be'st the same Ægeon, speak,
And speak unto the same Æmilia!

Æge. If I dream not, thou art Æmilia;
If thou art she, tell me, where is that son
That floated with thee on the fatal raft?

Abb. By men of Epidamnum, he, and I,
And the twin Dromio, all were taken up;
But, by and by, rude fishermen of Corinth
By force took Dromio and my son from them,
And me they left with those of Epidamnum:
What then became of them, I cannot tell;
I, to this fortune that you see me in.

Duke. Why, here begins his morning story
right;*

These two Antipholuses, these two so like,
And these two Dromios, one in semblance, -
Besides her urging of her wreck at sea, -
These are the parents to these children,
Which accidentally are met together.
Antipholus, thou cam'st from Corinth first.
Ant. S. No, Sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.
Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which
is which.

Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gra-
cious lord.

Dro. E. And I with him.

Ant. E. Brought to this town with that most
famous warrior

Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.
Adr. Which of you two did dine with me

to-day?

Ant. S. I, gentle mistress.
Adr. And are you not my husband?
Ant. E. No, I say nay to that.

Ant. S. And so do I, yet did she call me so;

And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
Did call me brother: -What I told you then,
I hope, I shall have leisure to make good;
If this be not a dream, I see, and hear.

• The morning story is what Ægeon tells the Duke
the first scene of this play.
VoL. I. Rr

They smack of honour both: - Go, get him sur-
geons.
[Exit SOLDIER, attended.
Enter ROSSE.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy thane of Rosse.

All. The weird 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:

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! Peace!--the charm's wound up.

So should he look,

That seems to speak things strange.

Rosse. God save the king!

Dun. 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, 'gan a dismal conflict:
'Till that Bellona's ona's bridegroom, flapp'din 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;-

Dun. Great happiness!

Enter MACBETH and BANQUO.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Fores?-What

Rosse. That now

[tion;

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composi-
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!

Till he disburs'd, at Saint Colmes' inch,

3 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.

Our bosom interest :-Go, pronounce his death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Things that do sound so fair?-I'the name of
Are ye fantasticalt of that indeed

Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. Whathe hath lost, noble Macbeth bath

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great pre-

diction

Tiger:

But in a sieve I'll thither sail,

And, like a rat without a tail,

I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other;

Andth e very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.

I will 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:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-toss'd.
Look what I have.

2 Witch. Show me, show me.
1 Watch. Here I have a pilot's th umb,

Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.

Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear,

Your favours, nor your hate.

1 Witch. Hail!

2 Watch. Hail!

3 Witch. Hail!

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:

So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!

1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail! Macb. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt.

Without my stir.

Ban. New honours come upon him
Like our strange garments; cleave not to their
But with the aid of use.

[mould, Mach. Come what come may; [day. Time and the hour runs through the roughest

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your

Macb. Give me your favour:t-my dull brain was wrought [pains With things forgotten. Kind gentleman, your Are re ister'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.[time, Think upon what hath chanc'd: and, at more The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

Ban. Very gladly.

Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. - Fores. - A Room in the Palace.
Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONAL-
BAIN, LENOX, and ATTENDANTS.
Dun Is execution done on Cawdor? Are
[not

Those in commission yet return'd?
Mal. My liege,

Ban. What, can the devil speak true?
Mach. The thane of Cawdor lives; Why do They are not yet come back. But I have spoke

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 immaginings:
My thought whose murderer yet is but fantas-
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smoother'd in surmise ;** and nothing is,

[tical,

The powers of action are oppressed by conjecture,