‘He shall live a man forbid:
Weary seven nights nine times nine,
He shall dwindle, peak, and pine.’
1597.
Such are the dread words of the Macbeth hags. We see that the Aberdeen witches had power over the winds; so had those of Macbeth. Banquo says to the weird sisters:
‘If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow, and which will not,
Speak then to me.’
This, it must be acknowledged, is wonderfully like a suggestion to the imagination from such a fact as that of Janet Wishart’s vaticinations among the growing corn. The witch-dance at the Fish Cross is much like those under the guidance of Hecate; and Wishart’s dealing with the malefactor’s corpse at the gallows on the Links, might well furnish a hint for the incantations over the caldron.
‘Grease that’s sweaten