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74 Macbeth [Act in 

To trade and traffic with Macbeth 

In riddles and affairs of death; 

And I, the mistress of your charms, 

The close contriver of all harms, 

Was never call'd to bear my part, 

Or show the glory of our art? 

And, which is worse, all you have done 10 

Hath been but for a wayward son, 

Spiteful and wrathful ; who, as others do, 

Loves for his own ends, not for you. 

But make amends now ; get you gone, 

And at the pit of Acheron 

Meet me i' the morning: thither he 

Will come to know his destiny : 

Your vessels and your spells provide, 

Your charms and every thing beside. 

I am for th' air ; this night I'll spend 20 

Unto a dismal and a fatal end: 

Great business must be wrought ere noon : 

Upon the corner of the moon 

There hangs a vaporous drop profound; 

I'll catch it ere it come to ground : 

And that distill'd by magic sleights, 

Shall raise such artificial sprites 

As by the strength of their illusion 

Shall draw him on to his confusion : 

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear 30 

His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear : 

And you all know security