June 29 The Harvard Classics, fifteen minutes a day
“Is That a Dagger I See Before Me?”
Macbeth, spurred on by the ambitious and crafty Lady Macbeth, committed murder to secure the crown of Scotland. But he paid dearly for his gain. Ghostly guests appeared at his banquet and threatened him with dire threats.
- Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre burned June 29, 1613.
From the 1930 Reading Guide
Macbeth
William Shakespeare
Page 357 opens in the middle of Act III, Scene III; the reading starts at the head of that scene on page 356.
SCENE III. [A park near the palace]
Enter three Murderers
1. Mur. But who did bid thee join with us?3. Mur. Macbeth.2. Mur. He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers1Our offices and what we have to doTo the direction just.1. Mur. Then stand with us;The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day.Now spurs the lated traveller apaceTo gain the timely inn; and near approachesThe subject of our watch.3. Mur. Hark! I hear horses.Ban. (Within.) Give us a light there, ho!2. Mur. Then ’tis he; the restThat are within the note of expectation2Already are i’ the court.1. Mur. His horses go about.3. Mur. Almost a mile; but he does usually,So all men do, from hence to the palace gateMake it their walk.
Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch
2. Mur. A light, a light!3. Mur. ’Tis he.
1. Mur. Stand to ’t.Ban. It will be rain to-night.1. Mur. Let it come down.
[They set upon BANQUO.]
Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!Thou mayst revenge. O slave! [Dies. FLEANCE escapes.]3. Mur. Who did strike out the light?1. Mur. Was ’t not the way?3. Mur. There’s but one down; the son is fled.2. Mur. We have lostBest half of our affair.1. Mur. Well, let’s away, and say how much is done. Exeunt.
SCENE IV. [The same. Hall in the palace]
A banquet prepar’d. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants
Macb. You know your own degrees; sit down. At firstAnd last, the hearty welcome.Lords. Thanks to your Majesty.Macb. Ourself will mingle with societyAnd play the humble host.Our hostess keeps her state,3 but in best timeWe will require her welcome.Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends,For my heart speaks they are welcome.
First Murderer [appears at the door]
Macb. See, they encounter thee with their hearts’ thanks.Both sides are even; here I’ll sit i’ the midst.Be large in mirth; anon we’ll drink a measureThe table round. [Approaching the door.]—There’s blood upon thy face.Mur. ’Tis Banquo’s then.Macb. ’Tis better thee without than he within.Is he dispatch’d?Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.Macb. Thou art the best o’ the cut-throats; yet he’s goodThat did the like for Fleance. If thou didst it,Thou art the nonpareil.4Mur. Most royal sir,Fleance is scap’d.Macb. Then comes my fit again. I had else been perfect,Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,As broad and general as the casing air;But now I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d, bound inTo saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo’s safe?Mur. Ay, my good lord; safe in a ditch he bides,With twenty trenched gashes on his head,The least a death to nature.Macb. Thanks for that;There the grown serpent lies. The worm5 that’s fledHath nature that in time will venom breed,No teeth for the present. Get thee gone; to-morrowWe’ll hear ourselves again.6 Exit Murderer.Lady M. My royal lord,You do not give the cheer. The feast is soldThat is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making,’Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home;From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony;Meeting were bare without it.
Enter the Ghost of BANQUO, and sits in MACBETH’s place
Macb. Sweet remembrancer!Now, good digestion wait on appetite,And health on both!Len. May ’t please your Highness sit.Macb. Here had we now our country’s honour roof’d,Were the grac’d person of our Banquo present,Who may I rather challenge for unkindnessThan pity for mischance.Ross. His absence, sir,Lays blame upon his promise. Please ’t your HighnessTo grace us with your royal company?Macb. The table’s full.Len. Here is a place reserv’d, sir.Macb. Where?Len. Here, my good lord. What is ’t that moves your Highness?Macb. Which of you have done this?Lords. What, my good lord?Macb. Thou canst not say I did it; never shakeThy gory locks at me.Ross. Gentlemen, rise: his Highness is not well.Lady M. Sit, worthy friends; my lord is often thus,And hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat;The fit is momentary; upon a thoughtHe will again be well. If much you note him,You shall offend him and extend his passion.7Feed, and regard him not. [Aside to MACBETH.]Are you a man?Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on thatWhich might appall the devil.Lady M. [Aside to MACBETH.] O proper8 stuff!This is the very painting of your fear;This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws9 and starts,Impostors to10 true fear, would well becomeA woman’s story at a winter’s fire,Authoriz’d11 by her grandam. Shame itself!Why do you make such faces? When all’s done,You look but on a stool.Macb. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.If charnel-houses and our graves must sendThose that we bury back, our monuments12Shall be the maws of kites. [Ghost vanishes.]Lady M. [Aside to MACBETH.] What, quite unmann’d in folly?Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.Lady M. [Aside to MACBETH.] Fie, for shame!Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ the olden time,Ere humane statute purg’d the gentle weal;13Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’dToo terrible for the ear. The time has been,That, when the brains were out, the man would die,And there an end; but now they rise again,With twenty mortal murders14 on their crowns,And push us from our stools. This is more strangeThan such a murder is.Lady M. My worthy lord,Your noble friends do lack you.Macb. I do forget.Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;I have a strange infirmity, which is nothingTo those that know me. Come, love and health to all;Then I’ll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
Re-enter Ghost
I drink to the general joy o’ the whole table,And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;Would he were here! to all and him we thirst,And all to all.Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;Thou hast no speculation15 in those eyesWhich thou dost glare with!Lady M. Think of this, good peers,But as a thing of custom; ’tis no other,Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.Macb. What man dare, I dare.Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,The arm’d rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;Take any shape but that, and my firm nervesShall never tremble. Or be alive again,And dare me to the desert with thy sword;If trembling I inhabit16 then, protest meThe baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!Unreal mockery, hence! [Ghost vanishes.]Why, so; being gone,I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.Lady M. You have displac’d the mirth, broke the good meeting,With most admir’d17 disorder.Macb. Can such things be,And overcome18 us like a summer’s cloud,Without our special wonder? You make me strange19Even to the disposition that I owe,When now I think you can behold such sights,And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,When mine is blanch’d with fear.Ross. What sights, my lord?Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;Question enrages him. At once, good-night.Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once.Len. Good-night; and better healthAttend his Majesty!Lady M. A kind good-night to all! Exeunt Lords.Macb. It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;Augures20 and understood21 relations haveBy maggot-pies and choughs22 and rooks brought forthThe secret’st man of blood. What is the night?Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.Macb. How say’st thou, that Macduff denies his personAt our great bidding?Lady M. Did you send to him, sir?Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send.There’s not a one of them but in his houseI keep a servant fee’d. I will to-morrow,And betimes I will, to the weird sisters.More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,By the worst means, the worst. For mine own goodAll causes shall give way. I am in bloodStepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,Returning were as tedious as go o’er.Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d.Lady M. You lack the season23 of all natures, sleep.Macb. Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse24Is the initiate fear that wants hard use;We are yet but young in deed. Exeunt.
SCENE V. [A heath]25
Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting HECATE
1. Witch. Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.Hec. Have I not reason, beldams26 as you are,Saucy and overbold? How did you dareTo trade and traffic with MacbethIn riddles and affairs of death;And I, the mistress of your charms,The close27 contriver of all harms,Was never call’d to bear my part,Or show the glory of our art?And, which is worse, all you have doneHath been but for a wayward son,Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,Loves for his own ends, not for you.But make amends now; get you gone,And at the pit of AcheronMeet me i’ the morning; thither heWill come to know his destiny.Your vessels and your spells provide,Your charms and everything beside.I am for the air; this night I’ll spendUnto a dismal and a fatal end;Great business must be wrought ere noon.Upon the corner of the moonThere hangs a vaporous drop profound;I’ll catch it ere it come to ground;And that distill’d by magic sleightsShall raise such artificial spritesAs by the strength of their illusionShall draw him on to his confusion.He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bearHis hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear;And, you all know, security28Is mortals’ chiefest enemy. Music, and a songHark! I am call’d; my little spirit, see,Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. [Exit.]
(Sing within: “Come away, come away,” etc.
1. Witch. Come, let’s make haste; she’ll soon be back again.
Exeunt.
SCENE VI. [Forres. The palace]
Enter LENNOX and another Lord
Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,Which can interpret farther; only, I say,Things have been strangely borne.29 The gracious DuncanWas pitied of Macbeth; marry, he was dead:And the right-valiant Banquo walk’d too late;Whom, you may say, if ’t please you, Fleance kill’d,For Fleance fled; men must not walk too late.Who cannot want30 the thought how monstrousIt was for Malcolm and for DonalbainTo kill their gracious father? Damned fact!How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straightIn pious rage the two delinquents tear,That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;For ’twould have anger’d any heart aliveTo hear the men deny ’t. So that, I say,He has borne all things well; and I do thinkThat had he Duncan’s sons under his key—As, an ’t please Heaven, he shall not—they should findWhat ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.But, peace! for from broad31 words, and ’cause he fail’dHis presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hearMacduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tellWhere he bestows himself?Lord. The son of Duncan,From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,Lives in the English court, and is receiv’dOf the most pious Edward with such graceThat the malevolence of Fortune nothingTakes from his high respect. Thither MacduffIs gone to pray the holy king, upon his aidTo wake Northumberland and warlike Siward;That, by the help of these—with Him aboveTo ratify the work—we may againGive to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,Do faithful homage and receive free honours;All which we pine for now: and this reportHath so exasperate their king that hePrepares for some attempt of war.Len. Sent he to Macduff?Lord. He did; and with32 an absolute “Sir, not I,”The cloudy messenger turns me his back,And hums, as who should say, “You’ll rue the timeThat clogs me with this answer.”Len. And that well mightAdvise him to a caution, to hold what distanceHis wisdom can provide. Some holy angelFly to the court of England and unfoldHis message ere he come, that a swift blessingMay soon return to this our suffering countryUnder a hand accurs’d!Lord. I’ll send my prayers with him. Exeunt.
ACT IV
SCENE I. [A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron]
Thunder. Enter the three Witches
1. Witch. Thrice the brinded33 cat hath mew’d.2. Witch. Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin’d.3. Witch. Harpier cries; ’tis time, ’tis time.1. Witch. Round about the cauldron go;In the poison’d entrails throw.Toad, that under cold stoneDays and nights has thirty-oneSwelt’red34 venom sleeping got,Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.All. Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.2. Witch. Fillet of a fenny35 snake,In the cauldron boil and bake;Eye of newt36 and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,For a charm of powerful trouble,Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.All. Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.3. Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,Witches’ mummy,37 maw and gulf38Of the ravin’d39 salt-sea shark,Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,Liver of blaspheming Jew,Gall of goat, and slips of yewSliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,Nose of Turk and Tartar’s lips,Finger of birth-strangled babeDitch-deliver’d by a drab,Make the gruel thick and slab.40Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,41For the ingredients of our cauldron.All. Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.2. Witch. Cool it with a baboon’s blood,Then the charm is firm and good.
Page 365 ends in the middle of the witches’ charm; the reading runs on to the end of the brewing on page 366, before Hecate enters.
Volume 46, pages 357–365 · See the scanned page on archive.org
This is the reading for June 29 in Fifteen Minutes a Day: The Reading Guide (1930 edition), page 59. There the assignment reads “Vol. 46, pp. 357–365.” Read it in the guide.