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William Shakespeare (1564–1616). The Tragedy of Macbeth.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

Scene V


[A heath]
Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting HECATE

1. Witch.Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.Hec. Have I not reason, beldams 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 close 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, securityIs 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.