Macbeth Glossary - Thunder, lightning or in rain Macbeth Glossary First Witch. When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? (1-2) Here the Witches are not asking about the type of weather in which they should next meet, but when they should next meet. Interestingly, these lines follow the punctuation set by an early editor of the play. In Shakespeare's First Folio (1623) , we have instead: When shall we three meet again? In Thunder, Lightning, or in Rain? Allan Park Paton, in The tragedy of Macbeth: according to the first folio explains: These lines are thus printed in the Folio of 1623, with a mark of interrogation after each, and, having the author's blotless manuscript before them, we cannot think it possible that Heminge and Condell could have allowed a mistake to occur in the printing of the very first line of the work, and must, therefore, believe that it is the Poet's mark of interrogation, religiously retained through the three succeeding Folios, which stands there.

Yet Sir Thomas Hanmer removed it, as if it were a slip on the part of the printer, and in all the modern editions that we are acquainted with, the lines run: When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? which is a different thing. It seems to us that Shakespeare could not manage without the two marks of interrogation, odd as they look: that he found it necessary so to arrange the lines, to tell his meaning, which was: "All our meetings are in thunder, lightning, or in rain, when shall our next be?" not, "We meet sometimes under other elemental circumstances, but when shall we meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?" and this opportunity may be taken to note the importance of remembering, as we study the 1623 Folio, that, though occasionally confused through obvious misprinting, we have before us there, Shakespeare's pointing, as well as his words. No Fear Shakespeare: Macbeth: Act 1, Scene 1 No Fear Shakespeare Home → No Fear Shakespeare → Macbeth → Act 1, Scene 1 Macbeth Thunder and lightning. Enter three WITCHES Thunder and lightning.

Three WITCHES enter FIRST WITCH When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? FIRST WITCH When should the three of us meet again? Will it be in thunder, lightning, or rain? SECOND WITCH When the hurly-burly’s done, When the battle’s lost and won. SECOND WITCH We’ll meet when the noise of the battle is over, when one side has won and the other side has lost. 5 That will be ere the set of sun. THIRD WITCH That will happen before sunset. FIRST WITCH Macbeth Act 1 Scene 1 - Fair is foul, and foul is fair Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Explanatory notes below for Act 1, Scene 1 From Macbeth. Ed. Thomas Marc Parrott. New York: American Book Co. (Line numbers have been altered.) ____ Shakespeare's dramatic genius is especially to be noted in the art with which he manages his beginnings. The first scene of Macbeth strikes the keynote of the play.

The desert place, the wild storm, the appearance of the witches, "the wayward rhythm" of their songs, all help to prepare us for a drama in which a human soul succumbs to the supernatural suggestions of evil and ranges itself along with the witches on the devil's side. We hear of a battle that is even now being fought, we hear of the trysting-place of the witches at the conclusion of the fray, and last of all we hear the name of the man they are planning to meet. No sooner has the name "Macbeth" been uttered than the calls of the attendant spirits are heard and the witches hurry off. The action of the scene is over with the naming of the man against whose soul these ministers of darkness are plotting. 1. The dialogue of the witches is a sort of chant. It is thrown into a verse form, trochaic tetrameter , which Shakespeare rarely uses except for supernatural beings, witches, fairies, or the like. In order to bring out the rhyme the last syllable is dropped from the end of each line. In line 2 the rhythm is reversed and the stress falls on the second syllable of each foot. In line 8 the stressed syllable in the third foot is omitted.

This forces us to pause in the middle of the line and so secures additional emphasis for the closing word, "Macbeth." We may imagine the Third Witch pausing for a moment while her sisters gather round her and then shrieking out the name of the hero in an ecstasy of devilish joy. 12, 13. The couplet with which the witches take their departure is a confession of their creed. All that is good, "fair," to others is evil, "foul," to them, and vice versa. This applies to both the physical and the moral world; they revel in the "fog and filthy air," and in every sort of mischief and evil-doing from killing swine to entrapping human souls. ________ How to cite the explanatory notes: Shakespeare, William. Macbeth. Ed. Thomas Marc Parrott. New York: American Book Co., 1904. Shakespeare Online. 10 Aug. 2010. < >. ________ When shall we three meet again - eNotes Shakespeare Quotes When shall we three meet again 1st Witch: "When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" Read on Owl Eyes This eText is now on Owl Eyes.

Clicking this link will open a new window. With these words Macbeth begins. This dark tragedy opens with three of the most memorable characters in literature, the Weird Sisters, ugly evil hags, witches who stir their cauldron and conjure up curses and predictions ("Fair is foul and foul is fair." I, i,12). They set a brooding stage for their encounter with Macbeth, a Scottish warlord who aspires to be King. They agree to meet again later that evening on the heath which Macbeth will cross as he returns from battle. During this meeting they set into motion a course of events that will lead to Macbeth's tragic downfall. This trio of howling, shrieking witches, who cackle with glee over their evil plans, will return later in the play to complete the final marriage of chaos and murder. Macbeth: Entire Play Exeunt SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH Macbeth - Wikiquote Macbeth Jump to: navigation , search Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? Macbeth (c.

1605 ) is a play by William Shakespeare . It is often seen as an archetypal tale of the desire for power and the betrayal of loyalty. Contents First Witch: When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? Second Witch: When the hurly-burly's done, When the battle's lost and won. Third Witch: That will be ere the set of sun. First Witch: Where's the place? Second Witch: Upon the heath Third Witch:There to meet with Macbeth. First Witch: I come, Graymalkin! Second Witch: Paddock calls. Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Witches, Scene I (Worthy to be a rebel, — for, to that, The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Showed like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name) Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munched, and munched, and munched: Give me, quoth I: Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. First Witch, Scene III Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid. First Witch, Scene III So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Macbeth, Scene III First Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! Second Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! Third Witch: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.

Scene III If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak. The earth hath bubbles, as water has, And these are of them. Banquo, Scene III Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? Banquo, Scene III And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me without my stir. Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Macbeth, Scene III Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, As 'twere a careless trifle. Malcolm, Scene IV To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust. Let not light see my black and deep desires. Macbeth, Scene IV Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised.

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition; but without The illness should attend it. Lady Macbeth, Scene V The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts! unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Lady Macbeth, Scene V Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.

Lady Macbeth, Scene V If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come. Macbeth, Scene VII To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other. Macbeth, Scene VII I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none. Macbeth, Scene VII I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn As you have done to this. Lady Macbeth, Scene VII Macbeth: If we should fail — Lady Macbeth: We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. Macbeth, Scene VII What a haste looks through his eyes! Lennox The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Fleance, Scene I Their candles are all out. Macbeth Banquo, Scene I Restrain in me the cursèd thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose. Banquo, Scene I Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee; I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Macbeth, Scene I Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings.

Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear The very stones prate of my where-about. Macbeth, Scene I I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. Macbeth, Scene I Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, — the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast. Macbeth, Scene II Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. Lady Macbeth, Scene II What hands are here, ha? They pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red. Macbeth, Scene II Porter: Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance: therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. Scene III Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' the building! Macduff, Scene III Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself! up, up, and see The great doom's image!

Had I but died an hour before this chance I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys; renown and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of. Macbeth, Scene III Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: The expedition of my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood, And his gash'd stabs looked like a breach in nature, for Ruin's wasteful entrance. There, the murderers; Steeped in the colors of their trade, their very daggers unmannerly breached with gore. Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart, Courage to make's love known? Macbeth, Scene III In the great hand of God I stand; and thence Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight Of treasonous malice! To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.

Malcolm, Scene III A falcon, touring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. Old Man, Scene IV Here comes the good Macduff. — How goes the world, sir, now? Ross, Scene IV God's benison go with you; and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! Old Man, Scene IV I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain. Banquo, Scene I To be thus is nothing, But to be safely thus. Macbeth, Scene I Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my grip, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, No son of mine proceeding. Macbeth, Scene I First Murderer: We are men, my liege. Macbeth: Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men. Scene I Second Murderer: I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what I do To spite the world.

First Murderer: And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on't. Scene I Where our desire is got without content. 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy. Lady Macbeth, Scene II Should be without regard: what's done is done. Lady Macbeth, Scene II We have scotch'd the snake, not killed it. Macbeth, Scene II Variant: We have scorch'd the snake, not killed it. Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further. Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight; ere, to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.

Macbeth, Scene II Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand, Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! — Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. Macbeth, Scene II Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. Macbeth, Scene II Banquo: It will be rain to-night. First Murderer: Let it come down. Banquo: O, treachery! — Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge. — O, slave! Scene III Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch. First Murderer, Scene III But now, I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. Macbeth, Scene IV Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both! Thou canst not say I did it: never shake Thy gory locks at me. Macbeth, Scene IV Lady Macbeth: Are you a man?

Macbeth: Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appall the devil. Scene IV I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, And all to all. What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: or be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword; If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, hence! Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once. It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: Stones have been known to move and trees to speak. Macbeth, Scene IV Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er. Macbeth, Scene IV Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Witches, Scene I By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes: — Open, locks, Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. First Apparition, Scene I Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth. Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him. Macbeth: That will never be. Who can impress the forest, bid the tree, Unfix his earthbound root? When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors. Lady Macduff, Scene II Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before. Ross, Scene II First Murderer: Where is your husband? Lady Macduff: I hope, in no place so unsanctified, Where such as thou mayst find him. First Murderer: He's a traitor. Son: Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! First Murderer: What, you egg!

Scene II Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet grace must still look so. Malcolm, Scene III I would not be the villian that thou think'st For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, And the rich East to boot. Macduff, Scene III Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth. Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, Are made, not markt; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasy: the dead man's knell Is there scarce askt for who; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying or e'er they sicken. Ross, Scene III Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. Malcolm, Scene III Did you say all? — O, hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop? Malcolm: Dispute it like a man.

Macduff: I shall do so; But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Scene III Out, damned spot! out, I say! Lady Macbeth, Scene I Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him. Lady Macbeth, Scene I Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh! Lady Macbeth, Scene I What's done cannot be undone. Lady Macbeth, Scene I Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love: now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! Where gott'st thou that goose look? Macbeth, Scene III Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver'd boy.

I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Macbeth, Scene III Macbeth: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain; And with some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? Doctor: Therein the patient Macbeth: Throw physic to the dogs; — I'll none of it. Scene III I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up.

Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home. Macbeth, Scene V I have almost forgot the taste of fears; The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts Cannot once start me. She should have died hereafter; There would have been time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.

Macbeth, Scene V At least we'll die with harness on our back. Macbeth, Scene V Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Macduff, Scene VI Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword? Macbeth:Of all men else I have avoided thee. But get thee back. My soul is too much charged With blood of thine already. Macduff: I have no words. My voice is in my sword. Thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out! Macduff, Scene VIII Macbeth: I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born. Macduff: Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast served Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd. Macbeth: Accursed be the tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow'd my better part of man! And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.

Scene VIII And live to be the show and gaze o' the time. Macduff, Scene VIII And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough! Macbeth, Scene VIII Macbeth Text and Translation - Act I - eNotes.com Macbeth Text and Translation - Act I Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches. When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? FIRST WITCH: When should the three of us meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? SECOND WITCH: When the battle's lost and won. SECOND WITCH: When all the uproar is over, When the battle has been lost and won. THIRD WITCH: That will be ere the set of sun. (5) That will be before sunset. FIRST WITCH: There to meet with Macbeth. THIRD WITCH: That’s where we’ll meet with Macbeth. FIRST WITCH: I’m coming, you old she-cat! ALL: Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air. ALL: The old toad is calling me. In a minute! What seems good is bad, and what seems bad is good.

Let’s float through the fog and filthy air. Exeunt. Start Free Trial Start your free trial with eNotes to access more than 30,000 study guides. Get help with any book. Alarum within. Enter King [Duncan], Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding [Sergeant]. DUNCAN: What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state. What man is that with blood all over him? From the looks of him, he can tell us the latest news Of the revolt. Who, like a good and hardy soldier fought (5) ’Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! Say to the King the knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it. MALCOLM: Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought Against my being taken prisoner. Hail, brave friend! Tell the king what you know about the battle When you left it. As two spent swimmers that do cling together (10) And choke their art.

The merciless Macdonwald— Worthy to be a rebel, for to that The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him—from the western isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; (15) And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Show'd like a rebel's whore, but all's too weak; For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name— Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, (20) Like valor's minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave, Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements. (25) Men fought like tired swimmers who cling together And wind up choking. The merciless Macdonwald, A worthy rebel, because The multiple evils of nature Are in him, has a supply of Irish foot soldiers and Soldiers from the Irish chiefs in the Western islands, And fortune, smiling on his damned quarrel, Looked like a rebel's whore.

Only they all lacked courage, Because brave Macbeth, well he deserves that name, Outshining fortune, with his brandished sword, Which was steaming with blood in the hot use of it, Like power’s hero, Carved out his way through them until he faced Macdonwald; And he never shook hands, said goodbye to him, Until he cut him in half, from his navel to his chin, And put Macdonwald’s head on top of our fort’s wall. DUNCAN: O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman! DUNCAN: O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman! SERGEANT: As whence the sun ’gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark: (30) No sooner justice had, with valor arm'd, Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.

Just as when the sun rises and Shipwrecking storms and terrible thunder stop, So from that man, who seemed to bring comfort, Discomfort got worse. Listen, King of Scotland, listen. No sooner had fairness, armed with courage, Made these skipping foot soldiers start running, Only the Norwegian lord, seeing his opportunity, Began a fresh assault, With loaded weapons and new supplies of men. DUNCAN: Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? DUNCAN: Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo, Were not upset by this? SERGEANT: As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were (40) As cannons overcharged with double cracks, So they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe. Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorize another Golgotha, But I am faint; my gashes cry for help. SERGEANT: As sparrows are by eagles, or the hare is by the lion. If I say truth, I must report they were as upset As cannons overcharged with double cracks. So they doubly re-doubled strokes upon the enemy.

Whether they meant to bathe in fresh, bleeding wounds, Or create another Crucifixion scene, I cannot tell. Only I am faint; my deep cuts need some help. DUNCAN: So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honor both. Go get him surgeons. [Exit attendant.] Who comes here? Your words suit you as your wounds do; They both tell of honor. Go, get him surgeons. Who’s this coming here? Enter Ross and Angus. The worthy Thane of Ross. MALCOLM: The worthy Baron of Ross. LENNOX: What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange. LENNOX: He looks as though he’s in a great hurry! He look should look that way with so many strange things To say. Whence camest thou, worthy Thane? DUNCAN: Where have you come from, worthy baron? ROSS: Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold.

Norway himself, with terrible numbers, (60) Assisted by that most disloyal traitor The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict, Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point rebellious, arm ’gainst arm, (65) Curbing his lavish spirit; and, to conclude, The victory fell on us. ROSS: Where the Norwegian banners insult the sky And, like a fan, make our people cold. The King of Norway himself, with terrible numbers of men, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor, The Baron of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Until the goddess of war’s bridegroom, disguised as truth, Confronted him with comparisons to himself, such as How they were both rebellious and both armed alike, Curbing his wild spirit. And, to conclude, The victory fell on us. DUNCAN: Sweno, the Norways’ king, craves composition; (70) Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme's Inch, Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

ROSS: Sweno, Norwegian king, wanted a treaty; We would not agree to the burial of his men Until he paid us, at Saint Colme's island, Ten thousand dollars to our general use. DUNCAN: No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death, (75) And with his former title greet Macbeth. DUNCAN: That Baron of Cawdor shall no longer betray Matters close to our heart. Order his death immediately, And, with the traitor’s former title, greet Macbeth. ROSS: I'll see it is done. DUNCAN: What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. DUNCAN: What the traitor has lost, noble Macbeth has won. Exeunt. Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches. FIRST WITCH: Where hast thou been, sister? FIRST WITCH: Where have you been, sister? SECOND WITCH: A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd. (5) “Aroint thee, witch!” the rump-fed ronyon cries.

Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o’ the Tiger; But in a sieve I'll thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, (10) I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. FIRST WITCH: A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munched, and munched, and munched. "Give me," said I. "Begone, witch!" the fat, sloppy woman cries. Her husband has gone to see Aleppo, master of the Tiger. Only I’ll sail there in a sieve, And, like a rat without a tail, I'll do harm, I'll do harm, and I'll do harm. SECOND WITCH: I'll give thee a wind. SECOND WITCH: I'll give you a wind for your sail. FIRST WITCH: And I will give you another one. FIRST WITCH: I myself have all the other, (15) And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I’ the shipman's card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall neither night nor day (20) Hang upon his penthouse lid; He shall live a man forbid.

Weary se'nnights nine times nine Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine; Though his bark cannot be lost, (25) Yet it shall be tempest-tost. Look what I have. I myself have all the other winds. And they blow at all the ports. They know all the quarters On a sailor’s compass. I will drain him as dry as hay. Sleep will not hang night or day On the roof of his house; He shall live like a man under a curse. Worn out with fatigue for a week, and very cross, He will waste away, droop in health and spirit . Though his ship will not be lost, It will be tossed about on the rough ocean. Look what I have. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd as homeward he did come. Drum within. (30) FIRST WITCH: I have a sea captain’s thumb here, Whose ship was wrecked as he was coming home. THIRD WITCH: A drum, a drum! Macbeth does come.

ALL: The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: (35) Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace! The charm's wound up. ALL: The three witches, hand in hand, Messengers of the events on the sea and land, In this way are scheming, scheming. Three times to you, and three times to me, And three times again, to make up nine. Quiet! The charm’s going to bring things to a head. Enter Macbeth and Banquo. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. MACBETH: I have never seen a day that is so disgustingly filthy and beautiful. BANQUO: How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these (40) So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying (45) Upon her skinny lips.

You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. How far is it to the town of Forres? What are these things With shrunken skin and wild clothes, That don’t look not like they live on earth, Only are still on it? Are you alive? Or are you any thing That man may question? You seem to understand me, Since you each are laying a scrawny finger Upon your skinny lips. You should be women, Only since you have beards, I can’t say That you are women. Speak, if you can. What are you? MACBETH: Speak, if you can; what are you? FIRST WITCH: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! (50) All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Baron of Glamis! SECOND WITCH: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Baron of Cawdor! THIRD WITCH: All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter! THIRD WITCH: All hail, Macbeth!

That shall be king hereafter! BANQUO: Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair? I’ the name of truth, (55) Are ye fantastical or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not. (60) If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate. BANQUO: Good sir, why are you startled, and seem afraid of Things that sound so beautiful? In the name of truth, Are you fantastic beings or indeed what You look like? You greet my noble partner With current grace and great predictions Of having nobility and of the hope to be king, that he seems carried away as well. Only you don’t speak to me. If you can look into the future, And say what will happen, and what will not, Then speak to me, who doesn’t beg or is afraid of Your favors or your hateful spells.

FIRST WITCH: Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. FIRST WITCH: You will be less than Macbeth, and much greater. SECOND WITCH: Not so happy, yet much happier. SECOND WITCH: Not as happy as Macbeth, only still much happier. THIRD WITCH: Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. (70) So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! THIRD WITCH: Your sons will be kings, even though you will not be king. So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! FIRST WITCH: Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! FIRST WITCH: Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! MACBETH: Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more. By Sinel's death I know I am Thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives, (75) A prosperous gentleman; and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence, or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way (80) With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

MACBETH: Wait, you incomplete speakers, tell me more. By inheritance, I know I am Baron of Glamis; Only how am I Baron of Cawdor? The Baron of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and for me to be king Is beyond belief, No more than to be Baron of Cawdor. Tell me How you know these strange things? or why You interrupt our journey on this blasted heath With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I command you. [Witches vanish.] The earth hath bubbles as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? BANQUO: The earth has bubbles, as boiling water has, And these spirits are like that. Where did they vanished to? MACBETH: Into the air, and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! (85) Into the air; and what seemed solid melted Like breath into the wind. I wish they had stayed! BANQUO: Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?

BANQUO: Are you sure we’re talking about what we’ve seen here? Or have we eaten some plant root That makes us hallucinate? Your children shall be kings. MACBETH: Your children shall be kings. BANQUO: And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so? MACBETH: And Baron of Cawdor too; isn’t that what they said? BANQUO: To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? BANQUO: Yes, in just those words. Who's here? [Enter Ross and Angus.] The King hath happily received, Macbeth, The news of thy success; and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels’ fight, (95) His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his. Silenced with that, In viewing o'er the rest o’ the selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, (100) Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post with post, and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defense, And pour'd them down before him.

ROSS: Macbeth, the king has happily received The news of your success. And when he heard about Your personal venture into the rebels' fight, His wonders and his praises don’t fight over What should be yours or his. Silenced with that story, And reviewing all the events of the day, He found you in the stout Norwegian’s ranks, Not afraid of what you did or the Strange images of death. The reports came in As thick as hail and every one of them sang Your praises in your great defense of the kingdom, And poured such praises down before the King. ANGUS: To give thee, from our royal master, thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee. We are sent from our royal master, To give you thanks; Only to bring you, announced, into his sight, Not just pay you for your brave deeds. ROSS: And for an earnest of a greater honor, He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor. (110) In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane, For it is thine. And, for as the first installment of a greater honor, He ordered me, from him, to call you Baron of Cawdor.

I was also ordered to add, hail, most worthy baron, For the title of Baron of Cawdor is yours. BANQUO: What, can the devil speak true? BANQUO: What, can the devil speak the truth? MACBETH: The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me In borrow'd robes? The Baron of Cawdor lives. Why do you address me By his name? Who was the Thane lives yet, But under heavy judgement bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both (120) He labor'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, Have overthrown him. The man who was the Baron still lives, Only lives that life which he deserves to lose Under the death penalty. I don’t know whether he combined Forces with those of Norway, or aided the rebel With hidden help and supplies, or that with both He labored to overthrow his country's government, Only his treasons, punishable by death, confessed and proven, have caused his downfall.

[Aside.] Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor! The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus.] (125) Thanks for your pains. [Aside to Banquo.] Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me Promised no less to them? MACBETH: [Aside.] Glamis, and Baron of Cawdor. The greatest hurdle is behind me. Thanks for your pains. Don’t you hope your children shall be kings, When those things that gave the Baron of Cawdor to me Promised no less to your children? BANQUO: [Aside to Macbeth.] That, trusted home, (130) Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But ’tis strange; And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's (135) Cousins, a word, I pray you. BANQUO: Might still inflame you with passion for the crown, In addition to the title of the Baron of Cawdor.

Only it ‘s strange. And often the instruments of darkness Tell us truths to win us over and so harm ourselves, Win us with honest trifles, to betray his purposes Of most serious results. Cousins, a word, I beg you. MACBETH: [Aside.] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme!—I thank you, gentlemen. (140) Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor. If good, why do I yield to that suggestion (145) Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings: My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, (150) Shakes so my single state of man that function Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is But what is not. [Aside.] Those creatures told two truths As happy prologues to my ascending The throne. I thank you, gentlemen.

[Aside.] This supernatural meeting Can’t be bad, only it can’t be good either. If it’s bad, Why has it given me promise of success, That began with a truth? I am Baron of Cawdor. If it’s good, why do I give in to that suggestion Whose horrid image makes my hair stand on end, And makes my heart pound so hard they knock at my ribs, Against my will to stay calm? My current fears Are less than horrible imaginings. My thought, whose murder is still only a fantastic idea, So shakes my manhood, that functioning like a man Is smothered in unfounded allegations; and nothing is Only what is not. Look, how our partner's rapt. BANQUO: Look, how our partner's in such deep thought. MACBETH: [Aside.] If chance will have me king, why, chance (155) [Aside.] If luck wants me to be king, luck may crown me Without my doing anything at all. BANQUO: New honors come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use.

(160) New honors are given to him, And are like new clothes that do not fit when new, Only after they are worn awhile. MACBETH: [Aside.] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. MACBETH: [Aside.] Let whatever’s going to happen, happen. Time and happiness can run through the roughest day. BANQUO: Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. BANQUO: Worthy Macbeth, we are waiting for you. MACBETH: Give me your favor; my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains (165) Are register'd where every day I turn The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. Think upon what hath chanced, and at more time, The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other. (170) Give me a minute. My tired brain was going over Things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, every day I turn The page, your pains are registered where I can read them. Let’s go see the King.

Let’s think about what has happened; and, later, When we’ve had a chance to think, let’s about these things openly each to other. BANQUO: Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return'd? DUNCAN: Is the execution of Cawdor carried out? Haven’t Those in charge of it returned yet? MALCOLM: They are not yet come back. But I have spoke With one that saw him die, who did report (5) That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, Implored your highness’ pardon, and set forth A deep repentance. Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, (10) To throw away the dearest thing he owed As ’twere a careless trifle. MALCOLM: They haven’t come back yet. Only I have spoke With someone who saw him die, and he reported That he confessed his treasons very frankly; He begged your highness for pardon; and he seemed Very sorry.

Nothing he did in his life Became him so much like the leaving it; he died As someone one who had studied his own death, To throw away the dearest thing he owned As it were a careless trifle. DUNCAN: To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built (15) The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before, That swiftest wing of recompense is slow (20) To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, That the proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been mine! Only I have left to say, More is thy due than more than all can pay. O worthiest cousin! The sin of my ingratitude even now Was heavy on me. You are so far ahead That swiftest way of repaying is slow To overtake you. I wish you had deserved less, Then the greater proportion both of thanks and payment Might have been my! I can only say that You are due more than all of us can ever pay. MACBETH: The service and the loyalty I owe, (25) In doing it, pays itself.

Your highness’ part Is to receive our duties, and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants, Which do but what they should, by doing every thing Safe toward your love and honor. (30) In doing the service and the loyalty I owe you, I am well paid. Your highness' role as King Is to receive our duties. and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants, Who only do what they should, by doing everything Loyal to your love and honor. DUNCAN: I have begun to plant thee, and will labor To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, That hast no less deserved, nor must be known No less to have done so; let me enfold thee (35) And hold thee to my heart. DUNCAN: I have begun to nurture your career, and will labor To make the most of yourself. Noble Banquo, Who has deserved no less, and must not be known To have done less than Macbeth, let me infold you In my arms and stop you to my heart. BANQUO: The harvest is your own.

BANQUO: If I grow here in your favor, The harvest is yours. Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves (40) In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland; which honor must (45) Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you. DUNCAN: Childishly cruel in being so perfect, seek to hide themselves In tears. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you who are in line for the throne know that We will declare that the throne belongs to Our eldest son, Malcolm; whom we name from this point forward The Prince of Cumberland, an honor that is Not enough to make him a king. Only he also needs signs of nobleness, like stars, that will shine On all those who deserve to be king. We will go from here to Inverness, And then we will bind us further to you.

MACBETH: The rest is labor which is not used for you: (50) I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So humbly take my leave. MACBETH: The rest is work which you’re not used to. I'll be your host myself, and make my wife Joyful with the news that you’re coming; So, humbly I leave you. DUNCAN: “They met me in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came (5) missives from the King, who all-hailed me ‘Thane of Cawdor’; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time with ‘Hail, King that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou mightst not lose (10) the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee.

Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.” Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness (15) To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'ldst have, great Glamis, That which cries, “Thus thou must do, if thou have it; (20) And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.” Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, And chastise with the valor of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, (25) Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal. LADY MACBETH: The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan (40) Under my battlements.

Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, (45) That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances (50) You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark To cry, “Hold, hold!” He brings great news. The raven himself is hoarse With croaking about the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my castle walls. Come, you spirits That hear mortal thoughts, take away my womanhood; And fill me, from my head to my toes, full Of most terrible cruelty! Make my blood thick, Stop up the ways remorse can get into and leave my body, That no feelings of guilt Keep me from what I intend to do, or put guilt between The consequences and the deed!

Come to my woman's breasts, And make my milk poisonous, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your blind shadows You wait on human mischief! Come, thick night, And rot in the most gloomy smoke of hell so That my sharp knife doesn’t see the wound it makes Or that heaven peeps through the blanket of the dark To cry, "Stop, stop!" Great Glamis! Worthy Cawdor! Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! Your letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I now feel The future in the instant. MACBETH: Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower, (70) But be the serpent under't. He that's coming Must be provided for; and you shall put This night's great business into my dispatch, Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. (75) O, the sun shall never See that tomorrow!

Your face, my baron, is like a book where men May read strange matters. To divert attention from the time Look like the time; have welcome in your eyes, Your hands, your tongue. Look like the innocent flower, Only be the serpent underneath it. The king Must be provided for. And you shall put This night's great business into my care, Which shall give kingly power and mastery alone To all our nights and days to come. MACBETH: See, see, our honor'd hostess! The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God ’ild us for your pains, (15) And thank us for your trouble. DUNCAN: See, see, our honored hostess! The love that follows us sometimes is our trouble, Which are still grateful for as love. Herein I will teach you How you shall bid God to reward us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble. LADY MACBETH: In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business to contend Against those honors deep and broad wherewith (20) Your Majesty loads our house.

For those of old, And the late dignities heap'd up to them, We rest your hermits. If done twice in every point, and then done double, Would be poor and single business to compete With those honors deep and broad that Your majesty heaps upon our house. For those of old, And the recent titles heaped on them, We remain your hermits. Where's the Thane of Cawdor? We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose (25) To be his purveyor; but he rides well, And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest tonight. DUNCAN: Where's the Baron of Cawdor? We followed him close to his heels and wanted To be his provider of necessary things. Only he rides well, And his great love of us, as sharp as his spur, has helped him To get to his home before us. Beautiful and noble hostess, We are your guests tonight. LADY MACBETH: If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well It were done quickly.

If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, (5) But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases We still have judgement here, that we but teach Bloody instructions, which being taught return To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice (10) Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, (15) Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off, (20) And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.

I have no spur (25) To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other— Enter Lady [Macbeth.] If this deed were done when it is done, then it would be better If it were done quickly. If the assassination of the King Could be entangled with the consequences, then I could, With his murder, be a success. If only this blow Could be the be-all and the end-all right here, Only here, upon this bank and shallows of time, We’d risk it for the life to come. Only in these things, We are always punished here because we teach others How to murder, and once they learn, they come back To murder us. This balanced justice Returns the ingredients of the gold cup we poisoned To our own lips. Duncan is here in double trust. First, he is here because I am his relative and his subject, Both Strong reasons against the deed. Secondly, as his host, I should shut the door against his murderer, Not carry the knife myself.

Besides, this Duncan Has very humble in the use of his power, has been So confident in his great duty, that his virtues Will pray like angels, as loud as trumpets, against The deep damnation of his murder. And sorrow, like a naked newborn baby, Moving in spite of the outburst, or heaven's archangels, supported By the invisible messengers of the air, Shall everyone about the horrid deed, And tears shall drown out the noisy wind. I don’t have any Valid reasons for killing him, only Ambition that can leap over anything, even itself, And it falls on the other reasons. Hello! What news? LADY MACBETH: He has almost supp'd. Why have you left the (30) He has almost finished supper. Why did you leave the dining hall? MACBETH: Hath he ask'd for me? MACBETH: Has he asked for me? LADY MACBETH: Know you not he has? LADY MACBETH: Don’t you know he has?

MACBETH: We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honor'd me of late, and I have bought (35) Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. MACBETH: We will proceed no further in this business. He has recently honored me, and I now have the Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which I want to enjoy for a bit longer, and Not cast them aside so soon. LADY MACBETH: Wherein you dress'd yourself? Hath it slept since? (40) And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valor As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that (45) Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would” Like the poor cat i’ the adage? LADY MACBETH: Was the hope you dressed yourself in Drunk? Did it go to sleep it off?

And does it wake up now, hung over From what it so freely committed to? I will calculate your love From this time forward. Are you afraid To be the same man in reality As the one you wish to be? Would you have the crown Which you believe to be the ornament of life, And yet live like a coward in your own self-esteem, Letting "I shouldn’t" wait for "I would," Like the poor cat in the proverb? MACBETH: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. MACBETH: I dare to do all that may become a man; Who dares to do more is not a man. LADY MACBETH: That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; (55) And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you.

I have given suck, and know (60) How tender ’tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this. What beast was it, then, That made you tell me about this plan? When you “dared” to do it, then you were a man; And, in order to be more than what you are, you would Be so much more the man. Time and place Were not in agreement, and yet you want to control both. They have made themselves agree, and that agreement now Doesn’t agree with you. I have nursed a baby, and know How tender it is to love the baby that drinks my milk. I would have, while it was smiling in my face, Plucked my nipple from his boneless gums And dashed out his brains, if I had sworn to do this As you have. Only dig deep for your courage, And we'll not fail.

When Duncan is asleep, Which should be soon since he is very tired From his day's hard journey, I will go to his two chamberlains With wine and carousing so Their memory, the guardian of the brain, Will be a wisp of smoke, and the tired brain won’t Be able to think clearly. When their drenched bodies Sleep like pigs, almost like death, Is there anything that we can’t do to The unguarded Duncan? Anything we can’t put off on His officers who are like sponges? Who will bear the guilt For our great slaughter? Only give birth to male children, For your unconquered spirit should be passed on Only to males. Won’t it be understood, When we have marked those sleepy two Of his own chamber with blood, and used their very own daggers, That they have done it? LADY MACBETH: Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar Upon his death? Who dares to understand any other way, Since we will cry and scream so loudly At the news of his death? MACBETH: I am settled, and bend up (90) Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. MACBETH:

Question: """When shall we three meet again"" is the first line of which play?"
Answer: Macbeth