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Macbeth.

I beg ten thousand pardons-I'll sit down;
Excuse me I'm ridiculous I own-

No more of that give me a glass of grog; (26)
I'll drink to all-(a bumper glass, you dog,)
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss-
Wou'd he were here to heighten this our bliss.
(The ghost rises again.

Avaunt and quit my sight! I want thee not!
Thy bones are marrowless-thy blood not hot;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes,
Which thou dost roll about.

Lady Macbeth.

Pray, sirs, dont rise,

He is dead drunk-no matter-we'll sit still.

Macbeth.

What any man dare do-why that I will-
Come as old Nick, or as a bugaboo ; (27)
A fe-fa-fum that's terrible to view; (28)
Take any shape but that, and I'll be stout,
Or, be alive again, and call me out;

ACT III.

SCENE.-A dark Cave.-In the middle a great cauldron burning.-The three Witches discovered looking at the cauldron-Thunder.-Enter Hecate and three other Witches.

Hecate.

Like elves and fairies now begin,
Enchanting all that you throw in,
For soon Macbeth you will behold,
Who'll come his fortune to be told.

The three Witches move round the cauldron singing, and throwing in several ingredients.

TUNE." Round about the Maypole how they trot."

Round about the cauldron now we go,

Lo!

So

In the charms we throw.

Hurly

Burly,

Double

Trouble,

Toil and woe.

Round about the cauldron, as you see,

We

Three

In a circle be

Dancing,

Prancing,

Bawling,

Calling

Oh dear me !

Enter Macbeth.

Macbeth.

Ah! you old hags, what is it you're about?

A nameless deed.

1. Witch.

Macbeth.

I charge you to speak out

Remove my fears-I cannot live in doubt.

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Your masters!-who are they?—Yes, let me view

them;

I pray you, beldams, introduce me to them.

MACBETH TRAVESTIE.

Witches singing.

Round about the cauldron now we go

Lo!

So,

In our charms we throw

Wond'rous,

Pond'rous,

Queer things,

Rare things

We will show.

Apparition of a bloody Child rises.

Apparition.

Macbeth be bold, for you may laugh to scorn,
The pow'r of any one of woman born.

(sinks.

Macbeth.

Thanks, master Rawhead, (31) for your pleasant

news

At this rate I my life shall never lose.

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