Macbeth by William Shakespeare
Act 1 - Scene 3
A heath near Forres.
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,
[p]And munch'd, and munch'd,
and munch'd:--
[p]'Give me,' quoth I:
[p]'Aroint thee, witch!' the
rump-fed ronyon cries.
[p]Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the
Tiger:
[p]But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
[p]And, like a rat without
a tail,
[p]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.
First Witch : I myself have all the other,
[p]And the very ports they blow,
[p]All
the quarters that they know
[p]I' the shipman's card.
[p]I will drain
him dry as hay:
[p]Sleep shall neither night nor day
[p]Hang upon his
pent-house lid;
[p]He shall live a man forbid:
[p]Weary se'nnights
nine times nine
[p]Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
[p]Though his bark
cannot be lost,
[p]Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
[p]Look what I have.
Second Witch : Show me, show me.
First Witch : Here I have a pilot's thumb,
[p]Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
Third Witch : A drum, a drum!
[p]Macbeth doth come.
All : The weird sisters, hand in hand,
[p]Posters of the sea and
land,
[p]Thus do go about, about:
[p]Thrice to thine and thrice to
mine
[p]And thrice again, to make up nine.
[p]Peace! the charm's wound
up.
Macbeth : So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Banquo : How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
[p]So wither'd and so
wild in their attire,
[p]That look not like the inhabitants o' the
earth,
[p]And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
[p]That man may
question? You seem to understand me,
[p]By each at once her chappy
finger laying
[p]Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
[p]And yet
your beards forbid me to interpret
[p]That you are so.
Macbeth : Speak, if you can: what are you?
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
[p]Things that do sound
so fair? I' the name of truth,
[p]Are ye fantastical, or that
indeed
[p]Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
[p]You greet with
present grace and great prediction
[p]Of noble having and of royal
hope,
[p]That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
[p]If you can
look into the seeds of time,
[p]And say which grain will grow and
which will not,
[p]Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
[p]Your
favours nor your hate.
First Witch : Hail!
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:
[p]So all hail, Macbeth and
Banquo!
First Witch : Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
Macbeth : Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
[p]By Sinel's death I know
I am thane of Glamis;
[p]But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor
lives,
[p]A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
[p]Stands not within
the prospect of belief,
[p]No more than to be Cawdor. Say from
whence
[p]You owe this strange intelligence? or why
[p]Upon this
blasted heath you stop our way
[p]With such prophetic greeting? Speak,
I charge you.
Banquo : The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
[p]And these are of them.
Whither are they vanish'd?
Macbeth : Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
[p]As breath into the
wind. Would they had stay'd!
Banquo : Were such things here as we do speak about?
[p]Or have we eaten on the
insane root
[p]That takes the reason prisoner?
Macbeth : Your children shall be kings.
Banquo : You shall be king.
Macbeth : And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
Banquo : To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
Ross : The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
[p]The news of thy success;
and when he reads
[p]Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
[p]His
wonders and his praises do contend
[p]Which should be thine or his:
silenced with that,
[p]In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame
day,
[p]He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
[p]Nothing afeard
of what thyself didst make,
[p]Strange images of death. As thick as
hail
[p]Came post with post; and every one did bear
[p]Thy praises in
his kingdom's great defence,
[p]And pour'd them down before him.
Angus : We are sent
[p]To give thee from our royal master thanks;
[p]Only to
herald thee into his sight,
[p]Not pay thee.
Ross : And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
[p]He bade me, from him, call
thee thane of Cawdor:
[p]In which addition, hail, most worthy
thane!
[p]For it is thine.
Banquo : What, can the devil speak true?
Macbeth : The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
[p]In borrow'd robes?
Angus : Who was the thane lives yet;
[p]But under heavy judgment bears that
life
[p]Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
[p]With
those of Norway, or did line the rebel
[p]With hidden help and
vantage, or that with both
[p]He labour'd in his country's wreck, I
know not;
[p]But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
[p]Have
overthrown him.
Macbeth : [Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!
[p]The greatest is behind.
[p][To
ROSS and ANGUS]
[p]Thanks for your pains.
[p][To BANQUO]
[p]Do you not
hope your children shall be kings,
[p]When those that gave the thane
of Cawdor to me
[p]Promised no less to them?
Banquo : That trusted home
[p]Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
[p]Besides
the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
[p]And oftentimes, to win us to
our harm,
[p]The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
[p]Win us
with honest trifles, to betray's
[p]In deepest
consequence.
[p]Cousins, a word, I pray you.
Macbeth : [Aside]. Two truths are told,
[p]As happy prologues to the swelling
act
[p]Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.
[p][Aside] This
supernatural soliciting]
[p]Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if
ill,
[p]Why hath it given me earnest of success,
[p]Commencing in a
truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
[p]If good, why do I yield to that
suggestion
[p]Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
[p]And make my
seated heart knock at my ribs,
[p]Against the use of nature? Present
fears
[p]Are less than horrible imaginings:
[p]My thought, whose
murder yet is but fantastical,
[p]Shakes so my single state of man
that function
[p]Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
[p]But what
is not.
Banquo : Look, how our partner's rapt.
Macbeth : [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown
me,
[p]Without my stir.
Banquo : New horrors come upon him,
[p]Like our strange garments, cleave not to
their mould
[p]But with the aid of use.
Macbeth : [Aside] Come what come may,
[p]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
[p]With things
forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
[p]Are register'd where every
day I turn
[p]The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.
[p]Think
upon what hath chanced, and, at more time,
[p]The interim having
weigh'd it, let us speak
[p]Our free hearts each to other.
Banquo : Very gladly.
Macbeth : Till then, enough. Come, friends.
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Next: Act 1 - Scene 4
