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I went to seek him: in the street I met him;
And in his company, that gentleman;
There did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down,
That I this day of him receiv'd the chain,
Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which,
He did arrest me with an officer.

I did obey; and sent my peasant home
For certain ducats: he with none return'd.
Then fairly I bespoke the officer,

To go in person with me to my house.
By the way we met

My wife, her sister, and a rabble more

Of vile confederates: along with them

They brought one Pinch; a hungry, lean-faced villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller;
A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man: this pernicious slave,
Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer;
And gazing if my eyes, feeling my pulse,
And with no face, as 'twere, out-facing me,
Cries out, I was possess'd: then altogether
They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence;
And in a dark and dankish vault at home
There left me and my man, both bound together;
Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,
I gain'd my freedom, and immediately
Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech
To give me ample satisfaction

For these deep shames and great indignities.
Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far, I witness with him;
That he dined not at home, but was lock'd out.
Duke. But had he such a chain of thee, or, no?
Ang. He had, my lord: and when he ran in here,
These people saw the chain about his neck.

Mer. Besides I will be sworn, these ears of mine
Heard you confess you had the chain of him,
After you first forswore it on the mart.
And, thereupon, I drew my sword on you;
And then you fled into this abbey here,
From whence, I think, you are come by miracle.
Ant. E. I never came within these abbey walls,
Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me:
I never saw the chain, so help me heaven!
And this is false you burden me withal.

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Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this? I think, you all have drank of Circe's cup. If here you hous'd him, here he would have been; If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly :You say he dined at home; the goldsmith here Denies that saying:-Sirrah, what say you? Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porcupine.

Cour. He did; and from my finger snatch'd that ring.

Ant. E. 'Tis true, my liege, this ring I had of her. Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? Cour. As sure, my liege, 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. Ege. 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. Ege. Is not your name, sir, called Antipholus? And is not that your bondman Dromio?

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Ege.

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 believe him.

Ege. Not know my voice! O, time's extremity! Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue, In seven short years, that here my only son Knows not my feeble key of untuned 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. Ege. But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy, Thou know'st we parted: but, perhaps, my son, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in misery.

Ant. E. The duke, and all that know me in the

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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, sir, am Dromio; pray let me stay Ant. S. Egeon, 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 husband by his liberty:Speak, old Ægeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once called 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!

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Ege. If I dream not, thou art Emilia;
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 Antipholus's, 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 gracious 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 not you 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.

Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.
Ant. S. I think it be, sir; I deny it not.
Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain, arrested me.
Ang. I think I did, sir; I deny it not.
Adr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail,
By Dromio; but I think he brought it not.
Dro. E. No, none by me.

Ant. S. This purse of ducats I received from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me: I see, we still did mect each other's man, And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, And thereupon these Errors are arose.

Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. The morning story is what Egeon tells the Duke in the first scene of this play.

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Abb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To go with us into the abbey here,

And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes :--
And all that are assembled in this place,
That by this sympathized one day's error
Have suffer'd wrong, go, keep us company,
And we shall make full satisfaction.—‍
Twenty-five years have I but gone in travail
Of you, my sons; nor, till this present hour,
My heavy burdens are delivered :—
The duke, my husband, and my children both,
And you the calendars of their nativity,
Go to a gossip's feast, and go with me;
After so long grief, such nativity.
Duke. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.
[Exeunt Duke, Abbess, EGEON, Courtezan,
Merchant, ANGELO, and Attendants.
Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from
ship-board?

Ant. E. Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou
embark'd?

Dro. S. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the
Centaur.

Ant. S. He speaks to me; I am your master,
Dromio:

Come, go with us: we'll look to that anon:
Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him.

[Exeunt ANTIPHOLUS S. and E., Anв.,
and Luc.

Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's
house,

That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner;
She now shall be my sister, not my wife.

Dro. E. Methinks you are my glass, and not my
brother:

I see by you, I am a sweet-faced youth.
Will you walk in to see their gossiping?

Dro. S. Not I, sir; you are my elder.
Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try it?
Dro. S. We will draw cuts for the senior: till
then, lead thou first.

Dro. E. Nay, then thus:

We came into the world, like brother and brother And now let's go hand in hand, not one before

another.

[Exeunt

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SCENE, in the End of the Fourth Act, lies in England; through the rest of the Play, in Scotland; and, chiefly, at Macbeth's Castle.

SCENE I.-An open Place.

ACT I.

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'Gainst my captivity-Hail, brave friend! Say to the king the knowledge of the broil, As thou didst leave it.

Sold.

Doubtfully 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 was supplied;
And fortune on his damned quarrel 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 valor's minion,

Carv'd out his passage, till he faced the slave;
And 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.

Dun. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sold. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection, Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break; So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valor arm'd,

2 i. e. Supplied with light and heavy armed troops.

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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 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;·

Dun.

Great happiness!

Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men, Till he disbursed, at St. Colmes' inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest :-Go, pronounce his death, And with his former title greet Macbeth. Rosse. I'll see it done.

Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath

won.

SCENE III-A Heath.

[Exeunt.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister? 2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

1 Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd:Give me, quoth I:

Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon' cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'the 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.

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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, And the 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 seven-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 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd, as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum; Macbeth doth come.

[Drum within

All. The weird sisters,' hand in hand,
Thus do go about, about;
Posters of the sea and land,

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
Peace!-the charm's wound up.
And thrice again, to make up nine:

Enter MACBETH and BANQUO.
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. 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

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So, all hail, Macbeth, and Banquo!

• Compass.
• Accursed.
Supernatural, spiritual.

1 Prophetic sisters. Estate. 4 Abstracted

1 Witch. Banquo, and Macbeth, all hail!
Macb. 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
[Witches vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them:-Whither are they vanish'd?
Much. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal,
melted

you.

As breath into the wind.-'Would they had staid!
Ban. Were such things here, as we do speak
about?

Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban.

You shall be king.
Macb. And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
Ban. To the self-same tune and words. Who's
here?

Enter Rosse and ANGUS.

Rosse. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy success: and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his: Silenced with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' the self-same day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
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.
Ang.

We are sent,
To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
To herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.

Kosse. And, for an earnest of a greater honor,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.

Bun.

What, can the devil speak true? Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: Why do you

dress me

In borrow'd robes?

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As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen.-
This supernatural soliciting

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.
Ban.
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Macb. If chance will have me king, why, chance
may crown me,

Without my stir.
Ban.

New honors come upon him
Like our strange garments, cleave' not to their
mould,
But with the aid of use.
Macb.
Come what come may;
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Macb. Give me your favor:'-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.
Ban.
Very gladly.
Macb. Till then, enough.-Come, friends.

[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN
LENOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return'd?

Mal.

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
My liege,
With one that saw him die: who did report,
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons;
Who was the thane, lives yet; Implor'd your highness' pardon; and set fort

Ang.
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
Combined with Norway; or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Mach.
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,
Promis'd no less to them?

Ban.
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 us

As fast as they could be counted.

A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him, like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,'
As 'twere a careless trifle.

Dun.
There's no art,
To find the mind's construction in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.-O worthiest cousin!

Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSSE, and ANGUS.
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me; Thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thec. 'Would thou hadst less deserv'd
That the proportion both of thanks and payment

Incitement.

Time and opportunity.

1 Owned, possessed.

i. e. Which cleave not. • Pardon.

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