Macbeth
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
When the hurly-burly's done.
When the battle's lost and won.
Where the place?
Upon the battlefield,
there to meet with Macbeth.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
(All roar)
(Sound muted)
(Roaring)
(Sound muted)
(Grunting and groaning)
(Lennox) Doubtful it stood,
as two spent swimmers
that do cling together
'The merciless Macdonwald
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,
well he deserves that name -
disdaining fortune,
with his brandished steel
which smoked with bloody execution,
like valour's minion
carved out his passage
till he faced the slave
which ne'er shook hands
nor bade farewell to him
till he unseamed him
from the nave to the chops
and fixed his head
upon our battlements.
And, to conclude,
victory fell on us.
Valiant Macbeth.
Worthy gentleman.
Great happiness.
Whence cam'st thou, noble Prince?
From Fife, great King,
where Norwegian banners flout the sky
and fan our people cold,
assisted by that most disloyal traitor,
the Thane of Cawdor.
God save the King!
No more that Thane of Cawdor
shall deceive our bosom interest.
Go pronounce his present death
and with his former title
greet Macbeth.
I'll see it done.
What he hath lost,
noble Macbeth hath won.
So foul and fair a day
I have not seen.
(Banquo) What are these?
Live you or are you aught
that man may question?
Speak, if you can.
What are you?
Macbeth.
Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis.
Macbeth.
Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor.
All hail, Macbeth,
that shalt be king hereafter.
Good sir,
why do you start and seem to fear
things that do sound so fair?
My noble partner
and great prediction
of noble having and of royal hope
that he seems rapt withal.
To me you speak not.
Hail, lesser than Macbeth
and greater.
Not so happy yet much happier.
Thou shalt get kings
though thou be none.
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo.
(Young witch) 'Banquo and Macbeth,
'all hail.'
Stay, you imperfect speakers.
Tell me more.
Say from whence you owe
this strange intelligence
and why, upon this blasted heath,
you stop our way
with such prophetic greeting.
Speak, I charge you.
The earth hath bubbles as the water has,
and these are of them.
Whither are they vanished?
Into the air,
and what seemed corporal
melted as breath into the wind.
Would they had stayed.
Were such things here
as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
that takes the reason prisoner?
You shall be king.
Went it not so?
To the selfsame tune and words.
The King hath happily received,
Macbeth,
the news of thy success.
As thick as hail
came post from post
and every one did bear thy praises,
in his kingdom's great defence,
and poured them down before him.
And we are sent to give thee
And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
he bade me from him
call thee Thane of Cawdor.
Why do you dress me
in borrowed robes?
Treasons capital, confessed and proved,
have overthrown him.
(Macbeth) Do you not hope
when those that gave
promised no less to them?
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 in deepest consequence.
(Macbeth) This supernatural soliciting
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
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.
If chance will have me king,
without my stir.
Hail, Macbeth.
O worthiest cousin.
More is thy due
than more than all can pay.
The service and the loyalty I owe
in doing it pays itself.
From hence to Inverness,
and bind us further to you.
I'll be myself the harbinger
and make joyful the hearing of my wife
with your approach,
so humbly take my leave.
My worthy Cawdor.
(Chanting in Gaelic)
"They met me in the day of success
"and I have learned
by the perfect'st 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 missives from the King
"who all-hailed me
"Thane of Cawdor,
these Weird Sisters saluted me
"and referred me
to the coming on of time with,
"'Hail, king that shalt be."'
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.
Come to my woman's breasts
and take my milk for gall,
you murthering ministers,
wherever, in your sightless substances,
you wait on nature's mischief.
Come, thick night,
and pall thee
that my keen knife see not
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"Macbeth" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/macbeth_13090>.
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