Page 2087 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

King, who all-hailed me Thane of Cawdor; by which title before these Weird
Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time with, ‘Hail, king
that shalt be’. This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of
greatness, that thou mightest not lose the dues [10] of rejoicing by being

ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be
What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature:
It is too full o’the milk of human-kindness

To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly
That wouldst thou holily, wouldst not play false,

And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou’dst have, great Glamis, [20]
That which cries, ‘Thus thou must do’ if thou have it,
And that which rather thou dost fear to do
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

To have thee crowned withal.

Enter Messenger.
What is your tidings?

MESSENGER
The King comes here tonight.

LADY
Thou’rt mad to say it!
Is not thy master with him? Who, were’t so, [30]

Would have informed for preparation.

MESSENGER
So please you, it is true. Our Thane is coming;
One of my fellows had the speed of him,
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

Than would make up his message.