Sign up for the free Shakespeare Newsletter

   Macbeth
ACT I SCENE III A heath near Forres. 
 Thunder. Enter the three Witches 
First Witch Where hast thou been, sister? 
Second Witch Killing swine. 
Third Witch Sister, where thou? 
First Witch A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, 5
 And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- 
 'Give me,' quoth I: 
 '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, 10
 And, like a rat without a tail, 
 I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. 
Second Witch I'll give thee a wind. 
First Witch Thou'rt kind. 
Third Witch And I another. 15
First Witch I myself have all the other, 
 And the very ports they blow, 
 All the quarters that they know 
 I' the shipman's card. 
 I will drain him dry as hay: 20
 Sleep shall neither night nor day 
 Hang upon his pent-house lid; 
 He shall live a man forbid: 
 Weary se'n nights nine times nine 
 Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: 25
 Though his bark cannot be lost, 
 Yet it shall be tempest-tost. 
 Look what I have. 
Second Witch Show me, show me. 
First Witch Here I have a pilot's thumb, 30
 Wreck'd as homeward he did come. 
 Drum within 
Third Witch A drum, a drum! 
 Macbeth doth come. 
ALL The weird sisters, hand in hand, 
 Posters of the sea and land, 35
 Thus do go about, about: 
 Thrice to thine and thrice to mine 
 And thrice again, to make up nine. 
 Peace! the charm's wound up. 
 Enter MACBETH and BANQUO 
MACBETH So foul and fair a day I have not seen. 40
BANQUO How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these 
 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, 45
 By each at once her choppy finger laying 
 Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, 
 And yet your beards forbid me to interpret 
 That you are so. 
MACBETH Speak, if you can: what are you? 50
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, thou shalt 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 favours nor your hate. 
First Witch Hail! 65
Second Witch Hail! 
Third Witch Hail! 
First Witch Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 
Second Witch Not so happy, yet much happier. 
Third Witch Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: 70
 So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 
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. 
 Witches vanish 
BANQUO The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, 
 And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? 
MACBETH Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted 
 As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! 85
BANQUO Were such things here as we do speak about? 
 Or have we eaten on the insane root 
 That takes the reason prisoner? 
MACBETH Your children shall be kings. 
BANQUO You shall be king. 90
MACBETH And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? 
BANQUO To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? 
 Enter ROSS and ANGUS 
ROSS 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 tale 
 Came post with post; and every one did bear 
 Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, 
 And pour'd them down before him. 
ANGUS We are sent 105
 To give thee from our royal master thanks; 
 Only to herald thee into his sight, 
 Not pay thee. 
ROSS And, for an earnest of a greater honour, 
 He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: 110
 In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! 
 For it is thine. 
BANQUO What, can the devil speak true? 
MACBETH The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me 
 In borrow'd robes? 115
ANGUS Who was the thane lives yet; 
 But under heavy judgment 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 labour'd in his country's wrack, I know not; 
 But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, 
 Have overthrown him. 
MACBETH Aside 
 Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor: 
 The greatest is behind. 
 To ROSS and ANGUS 
 Thanks for your pains. 125
 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? 
BANQUO That trusted home 
 Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, 130
 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. 135
 Cousins, a word, I pray you. 
MACBETH Aside 
 Two truths are told, 
 As happy prologues to the swelling act 
 Of the imperial theme. -- I thank you, gentlemen. 
 Aside 
 This supernatural soliciting 
 Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, 
 Why hath it given me earnest of success, 140
 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 145
 Are less than horrible imaginings: 
 My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, 
 Shakes so my single state of man that function 
 Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is 
 But what is not. 150
BANQUO Look, how our partner's rapt. 
MACBETH Aside 
 If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, 
 Without my stir. 
BANQUO New honors come upon him, 
 Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould 
 But with the aid of use. 155
MACBETH Aside 
 Come what come may, 
 Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. 
BANQUO Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. 
MACBETH Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought 
 With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains 
 Are register'd where every day I turn 160
 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. 
BANQUO Very gladly. 165
MACBETH Till then, enough. Come, friends. 
 Exeunt 


 | home  |  what's new  |  about this site  |  contact  |  notice of copyright  | 
©1999-2006 Amanda Mabillard. All Rights Reserved.