3 Harpier cries, 'tis time, 'tis time

1 Round about the Caldron go:

In the poysond Entrailes throw

Toad, that vnder cold stone,

Dayes and Nights, ha's thirty one:

Sweltred Venom sleeping got,

Boyle thou first i'th' charmed pot

All. Double, double, toile and trouble;

Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble

2 Fillet of a Fenny Snake,

In the Cauldron boyle and bake:

Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frogge,

Wooll of Bat, and Tongue of Dogge:

Adders Forke, and Blinde-wormes Sting,

Lizards legge, and Howlets wing:

For a Charme of powrefull trouble,

Like a Hell-broth, boyle and bubble

All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,

Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble

3 Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolfe,

Witches Mummey, Maw, and Gulfe

Of the rauin'd salt Sea sharke:

Roote of Hemlocke, digg'd i'th' darke:

Liuer of Blaspheming Iew,

Gall of Goate, and Slippes of Yew,

Sliuer'd in the Moones Ecclipse:

Nose of Turke, and Tartars lips:

Finger of Birth-strangled Babe,

Ditch-deliuer'd by a Drab,

Make the Grewell thicke, and slab.

Adde thereto a Tigers Chawdron,

For th' Ingredience of our Cawdron

All. Double, double, toyle and trouble,

Fire burne, and Cauldron bubble

2 Coole it with a Baboones blood,

Then the Charme is firme and good.

Enter Hecat, and the other three Witches.

Hec. O well done: I commend your paines,

And euery one shall share i'th' gaines:

And now about the Cauldron sing

Like Elues and Fairies in a Ring,

Inchanting all that you put in.

Musicke and a Song. Blacke Spirits, &c.

2 By the pricking of my Thumbes,

Something wicked this way comes:

Open Lockes, who euer knockes.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. How now you secret, black, & midnight Hags?

What is't you do?

All. A deed without a name

Macb. I coniure you, by that which you Professe,

(How ere you come to know it) answer me:

Though you vntye the Windes, and let them fight

Against the Churches: Though the yesty Waues

Confound and swallow Nauigation vp:

Though bladed Corne be lodg'd, & Trees blown downe,

Though Castles topple on their Warders heads:

Though Pallaces, and Pyramids do slope

Their heads to their Foundations: Though the treasure

Of Natures Germaine, tumble altogether,

Euen till destruction sicken: Answer me

To what I aske you

Macbeth(#2264) · 第 81 / 133 题