HECATE, STADLIN, HOPPO, with the other Witches, preparing for their midnight journey through the Air. FIRESTONE,

HECATE'S Son.

Hec. The moon's a gallant: see how brisk she rides.
Stad. Here's a rich evening, Hecate.

Hec. Ay, is't not, wenches,

To take a journey of five thousand mile?
Hop. Ours will be more to-night.

Hec. Oh 'twill be precious.

Heard you the owl yet?

Stad. Briefly in the copse,

As we came through now.

Hec. "Tis high time for us then.

Stad. There was a bat hung at my lips three times As we came through the woods, and drank her fill. Old Puckle saw her.

Hec. You are fortunate still :

The very screech-owl lights upon your shoulder,

And woos you like a pigeon.
Have you your ointments?
Stad. All.

Hec. Prepare to flight then:
I'll overtake you swiftly.
Stad. Hie thee, Hecate :

We shall be up betimes.

Hec. I'll reach you quickly.

Are you furnish'd?

[The other Witches mount.

Fire. They are all going a-birding to-night. They talk of fowls in the air, that fly by day: I am sure, they'll be a company of foul sluts there to-night. If we have not mortality offer'd,1 I'll be hanged; for they are able to putrefy it, to infect a whole

region. She spies me now.

Hec. What, Firestone, our sweet son?

Fire. A little sweeter than some of you; or a dunghill were too good for me.

Hec. How much hast here?

Fire. Nineteen, and all brave plump ones; besides six lizards,

and three serpentine eggs.

Hec. Dear and sweet boy: what herbs hast thou?
Fire. I have some Marmartin and Mandragon.
Hec. Marmaritin and Mandragora thou wouldst say.
Fire. Here's Pannax too: I thank thee, my pan
With kneeling down to cut 'em.

akes I am sure

1 1 Probably the true reading is after't.

Hec. And Selago,

Hedge hysop too: how near he goes my cuttings!

Were they all cropt by moon-light?

Fire. Every blade of 'em, or I am a moon-calf, mother.
Hec. Hie thee home with 'em.

Look well to the house to-night: I am for aloft.

Fire. Aloft, quoth you? I would you would break your neck once, that I might have all quickly. Hark, hark, mother; they are above the Steeple already, flying over your head, with a noise of musicians.

Hec. They are indeed. Help me, help me; I'm too late else.
Song in the Air.

Come away, come away;

Hecate, Hecate, come away.

Hec. I come, I come, I come, I come,

With all the speed I may,

With all the speed I may.

Where's Stadlin ?

[Above.] Here.

Hec. Where's Puckle ? [Above.]Here :

And Hoppo too, and Hellwain too:

We lack but you; we lack but you:

Come away, make up the count.

Hec. I will but 'noint, and then I mount.

[A Spirit like a Cat descends.

[Above.]-There's one come down to fetch his dues;

A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood:

And why thou stay'st so long, I muse, I muse,

Since the air's so sweet and good.

Hec. O, art thou come?

What news, what news?

Spirit. All goes still to our delight:

Either come, or else

Refuse, refuse.

Hec. Now I am furnish'd for the flight.

Fire. Hark, hark, the Cat sings a brave treble in her own

language.

Hec. [Going up.] Now I go, now I fly,

Malkin my sweet Spirit and I.

Oh what a dainty pleasure 'tis

To ride in the air

When the moon shines fair,

And sing, and dance, and toy, and kiss!

Over woods, high rocks, and mountains,
Over seas (our mistress' fountains),
Over steep towers and turrets,

We fly by night 'mongst troops of Spirits.
No ring of bells to our ears sounds,
No howls of wolves, no yelps of hounds;
No, not the noise of water's breach,

Or cannon's throat, our height can reach.
[Above.]--No ring of bells, etc.

Fire. Well, mother, I thank your kindness; you must be Gamboling in the air, and leave me to walk here like a fool and a mortal.

[Act iii., Sc. 3.1]

A Duchess consults the Witch about inflicting a sudden Death.

DUCHESS. HECATE. FIRESTONE.

Hec. What death is't you desire for Almachildes?
Duch. A sudden and a subtle.

Hec. Then I've fitted you.

Here lie the gifts of both; sudden and subtle :
His picture made in wax, and gently molten
By a blue fire, kindled with dead men's eyes,
Will waste him by degrees.

Duch. In what time prithee?

Hec. Perhaps in a moon's progress.
Duch. What, a month?

Out upon pictures, if they be so tedious!

Give me things with some life.

Hec. Then seek no farther.

Duch. This must be done with speed, despatch'd this night,

If it be possible.

Hec. I have it for you:

Here's that will do't: stay but perfection's time,

And that's not five hours hence.

Duch. Canst thou do this?

Hec. Can I?

Duch. I mean, so closely?

Hec. So closely do you mean too?

Duch. So artfully, so cunningly?

Hec. Worse and worse. Doubts and incredulities, They make me mad. Let scrupulous creatures know: Cum volui, ripis ipsis mirantibus, amnes

In fontes rediere suos; concussaque sisto,

[The entire Scene.]

Stantia concutio cantu freta; nubila pello,
Nubilaque induco: ventos abigoque, vocoque.
Vipereas rumpo verbis et carmine fauces;
Et sylvas moveo, jubeoque tremiscere montes,
Et mugire solum, manesque exire sepulcris.
Te quoque, Luna, traho.

Can you doubt me then, daughter;

Than can make mountains tremble, miles of woods walk:
Whole earth's foundation bellow, and the spirits

Of the entomb'd to burst out from their marbles
Nay, draw yon Moon to my involv'd designs?

;

Fire. I know as well as can be when my mother's mad, and our Great cat angry; for one spits French then, and the other spits Latin.

Duch. I did not doubt you, mother.

Hec. No! what, did you?

My power's so firm, it is not to be question'd.

Duch. Forgive what's past; and now I know th' offensiveness

That vexes art, I'll shun the occasion ever.

Hec. Leave all to me and my five sisters, daughter.

It shall be convey'd in at howlet-time.

Take you no care. My spirits know their moments:
Raven or screech-owl never fly by the door

But they call in (I thank 'em) and they lose not by't.
I give 'em barley soak'd in infant's blood:

They shall have semina cum sanguine,

Their gorge cramm'd full, if they come once to our house :
We are no niggard.

Fire. They fare but too well when they come hither: they ate much the other night as would have made me a good conscionable pudding.

up as

Hec. Give me some lizard's brain, quickly, Firestone. Where's grannam Stadlin, and all the rest of the sisters? Fire. All at hand, forsooth.

(The other Witches appear.)

Hec. Give me Marmaritin; some Bear-breech: when?

Fire. Here's Bear-breech and lizard's-brain, forsooth.
Hec. Into the vessel;

And fetch three ounces of the red-hair'd girl

I kill'd last midnight.

Fire. Whereabout, sweet mother?

Hec. Hip; hip, or flank. Where's the Acopus?
Fire. You shall have Acopus, forsooth.

Hec. Stir, stir, about; whilst I begin the charm.

A Charm Song about a Vessel.

Hec. Black spirits and white, red spirits and grey; Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.

Titty, Tiffin, keep it stiff in ;

Fire-drake, Puckey, make it lucky;

Liard, Robin, you must bob in.

Round, around, around, about, about;
All Ill come running in, all Good keep out.
First Witch. Here's the blood of a bat.
Hec. Put in that, Oh put in that.

Sec. Witch. Here's libbard's-bane.
Hec. Put in again.

First Witch. The juice of toad; the oil of adder.
Sec. Witch. Those will make the younker madder.
Hec. Put in, there's all, and rid the stench.

Fire. Nay, here's three ounces of the red-hair'd wench.
All. Round, around, around, &c.

Hec. So, so, enough: into the vessel with it.

There; 't hath the true perfection: I am so light1
At any mischief, there's no villany

But is a tune methinks.

Fire. A tune! 'tis to the tune of damnation then, I warrant

you,

And that song hath a villanous burthen.

Hec. Come, my sweet sisters, let the air strike our tune; Whilst we show reverence to yon peeping moon.

bound.

[The Witches dance, et Exeunt. [Act v., Sc. 2.2]

resort for

Though some resemblance may be traced between the Charms in Macbeth and the Incantations in this Play, which is supposed to have preceded it, this coinci dence will not detract much from the originality of Shakspeare. His Witches are distinguished from the Witches of Middleton by essential differences. These are creatures to whom man or woman plotting some dire mischief might occasional consultation. Those originate deeds of blood, and begin bad impulses to men. From the moment that their eyes first meet with Macbeth's, he is spellThat meeting sways his destiny. He can never break the fascination. These Witches can hurt the body: those have power over the soul.-Hecate in Middleton has a Son, a low buffoon: the hags of Shakspeare have neither child of their own, nor seem to be descended from any parent. They are foul Anomalies, of whom we know not whence they are sprung, nor whether they have beginning of ending. As they are without human passions, so they seem to be without human relations. They come with thunder and lightning, and vanish to airy music. This is all we know of them.-Except Hecate, they have no names; which heightens their mysteriousness. Their names, and some of the properties, which Middleton

1 Light-hearted.

2[The entire Scene. For other extracts from Middleton alone see pages 413,420, 557, 565, 567 and 568; in partnership see note on page 114.]