Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Macbeth (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Anthony Dawson
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-528-5

    Copyright Anthony Dawson. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Anthony Dawson
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Macbeth (Folio 1, 1623)

    Scena Secunda.
    15Alarum within. Enter King Malcome, Donal-
    baine, Lenox, with attendants, meeting
    a bleeding Captaine.
    King. What bloody man is that? he can report,
    As seemeth by his plight, of the Reuolt
    20The newest state.
    Mal. This is the Serieant,
    Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought
    'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend;
    Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle,
    25As thou didst leaue it.
    Cap. Doubtfull it stood,
    As two spent Swimmers, that doe cling together,
    And choake their Art: The mercilesse Macdonwald
    (Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that
    30The multiplying Villanies of Nature
    Doe swarme vpon him) from the Westerne Isles
    Of Kernes and Gallowgrosses is supply'd,
    And Fortune on his damned Quarry smiling,
    Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake:
    35For braue Macbeth (well hee deserues that Name)
    Disdayning Fortune, with his brandisht Steele,
    Which smoak'd with bloody execution
    (Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his passage,
    Till hee fac'd the Slaue:
    40Which neu'r shooke hands, nor bad farwell to him,
    Till he vnseam'd him from the Naue toth'Chops,
    And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements.
    King. O valiant Cousin, worthy Gentleman.
    Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection,
    45Shipwracking Stormes, and direfull Thunders:
    So from that Spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
    Discomfort swells: Marke King of Scotland, marke,
    No sooner Iustice had, with Valour arm'd,
    Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heeles,
    50But the Norweyan Lord, surueying vantage,
    With furbusht Armes, and new supplyes of men,
    Began a fresh assault.
    King. Dismay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and
    55Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles;
    Or the Hare, the Lyon:
    If I say sooth, I must report they were
    As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks,
    So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe:
    60Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds,
    Or memorize another Golgotha,
    I cannot tell: but I am faint,
    My Gashes cry for helpe.
    King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds,
    65They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons.
    Enter Rosse and Angus.
    Who comes here?
    Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse.
    Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes?
    70So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange.
    Rosse. God saue the King.
    King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
    Rosse. From Fiffe, great King,
    Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie,
    75And fanne our people cold.
    Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers,
    Assisted by that most disloyall Traytor,
    The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict,
    Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe,
    80Confronted him with selfe-comparisons,
    Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme,
    Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude,
    The Victorie fell on vs.
    King. Great happinesse.
    85Rosse. That now Sweno, the Norwayes King,
    Craues composition:
    Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men,
    Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes ynch,
    Ten thousand Dollars, to our generall vse.
    132 The Tragedie of Macbeth.
    90King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue
    Our Bosome interest: Goe pronounce his present death,
    And with his former Title greet Macbeth.
    Rosse. Ile see it done.
    King. What he hath lost, Noble Macbeth hath wonne.