Macbeth Page #2

Synopsis: In fog-dripping, barren and sometimes macabre settings, 11th-century Scottish nobleman Macbeth is led by an evil prophecy and his ruthless yet desirable wife to the treasonous act that makes him king. But he does not enjoy his newfound, dearly-won kingship... Restructured, but all the dialogue is Shakespeare's.
Genre: Drama, History, War
Director(s): Orson Welles
Production: Mercury Productions
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
88%
PASSED
Year:
1948
92 min
948 Views


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;

And pity, like a naked new-born babe,

striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim,

horsed upon the sightless couriers of the air,

shall blow the horrid deed

in every eye, that tears shall drown the wind.

Saint Michael, the archy angel, be our safeguard

against the viles and wickedness of the devil.

Do thou, oh prince of the heavenly host,

by the divine power,

thrust into hell satan and the other evil spirits,

who wrong through the world,

seeking the ruin of souls.

Amen!

Thus thou renounce satan?

I renounce him.

And all his works?

I renounce them.

And all his palms?

I renounce them.

Amen!

My son, is execution done on Cawdor?

My liege, it is. And 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,

to throw away the dearest thing he owed,

as 'twere a careless trifle.

There's no art to find the mind's construction

in the face:
he was a gentleman,

on whom I built an absolute trust.

But where is Macbeth, the thane of Cawdor?

Oh, worthy Cawdor!

Would thou hadst less deserved,

that the proportion both of thanks and payment might have been mine!

The service and the loyalty I owe in doing it,

pays itself.

Noble Banquo, thou hadst no less deserved,

nor must be known no less to have done so.

Give me your hand.

This guest of summer, the temple-haunting martlet,

does approve, by his loved mansionry,

that the heaven's breath smells wooingly here.

No jutty, frieze, buttress, nor coign of vantage,

but this bird hath made his pendent bed

and procreant cradle,

where they most breed and haunt,

I have observed, the air is delicate.

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'ld jump the life to come.

But in these cases we still have judgment here

that we but teach bloody instructions,

which, being taught, return to plague the inventor

this even-handed justice commends

the ingredients of our poison'd chalice

to our own lips.

When in swinish sleep their drenched natures lie as in a death,

what cannot you and I perform upon the unguarded Duncan?

What not put upon his spongy officers,

who shall bear the guilt of our great quell?

Bring forth men-children only;

For thy undaunted mettle should compose nothing but males.

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