You owe this strange intelligence, or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting. Speak, I charge you.
Witches vanish.
BANQUO
The earth hath bubbles as the water has,
80 And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?
MACBETH
81 Into the air, and what seemed corporal melted As breath into the wind. Would they had stayed!
BANQUO
Were such things here as we do speak about?
84 Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?
MACBETH
Your children shall be kings.
BANQUO You shall be king.
MACBETH
And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so?
BANQUO
To th' selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
Enter Ross and Angus.
ROSS
The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
90 The news of thy success; and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend92
Which should be thine or his. Silenced with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o' th' selfsame day,
He finds thee in the stout Norwegian ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as tale97
Came post with post, and every one did bear98