1 You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.
2 My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.
3 Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them.
4 Let's after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman.
5 The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
6 Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing.
7 Who was the Thane lives yet, But under heavy judgement bears that life Which he deserves to lose.
8 We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee.
9 New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use.
10 As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells.'
11 The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine.
12 If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate.
13 But 'tis strange: And oftentimes to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence.'
14 That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's Inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
15 Your Highness' part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honour.
16 Mark, King of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd, Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.
17 Norway himself, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor, The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point, rebellious arm 'gainst arm, Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, The victory fell on us.'
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