Macbeth. William Shakespeare

      William Shakespeare

      Macbeth

      Act I, Scene 1

      A desert place.

      [Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches]

      First Witch. When shall we three meet again

      In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

      Second Witch. When the hurlyburly's done,

      When the battle's lost and won. 5

      Third Witch. That will be ere the set of sun.

      First Witch. Where the place?

      Second Witch. Upon the heath.

      Third Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

      First Witch. I come, Graymalkin! 10

      Second Witch. Paddock calls.

      Third Witch. Anon.

      All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

      Hover through the fog and filthy air.

      [Exeunt]

      Act I, Scene 2

      A camp near Forres.

      [Alarum within. Enter 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. 20

      Malcolm. This is the sergeant

      Who like a good and hardy soldier fought

      'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!

      Say to the king the knowledge of the broil

      As thou didst leave it. 25

      Sergeant. Doubtful it stood;

      As two spent swimmers, that do cling together

      And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald—

      Worthy to be a rebel, for to that

      The multiplying villanies of nature 30

      Do swarm upon him—from the western isles

      Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;

      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— 35

      Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd 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, 40

      Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,

      And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

      Duncan. O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!

      Sergeant. As whence the sun 'gins his reflection

      Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, 45

      So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come

      Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:

      No sooner justice had with valour arm'd

      Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,

      But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, 50

      With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men

      Began a fresh assault.

      Duncan. Dismay'd not this

      Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

      Sergeant. Yes; 55

      As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.

      If I say sooth, I must report they were

      As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they

      Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:

      Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, 60

      Or memorise another Golgotha,

      I cannot tell.

      But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

      Duncan. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;

      They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. 65

      [Exit Sergeant, attended]

      Who comes here?

      [Enter ROSS]

      Malcolm. The worthy thane of Ross.

      Lennox. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look 70

      That seems to speak things strange.

      Ross. God save the king!

      Duncan. Whence camest thou, worthy thane?

      Ross. From Fife, great king;

      Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky 75

      And fan our people cold. Norway himself,

      With terrible numbers,

      Assisted by that most disloyal traitor

      The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;

      Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, 80

      Confronted him with self-comparisons,

      Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm.

      Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,

      The victory fell on us.

      Duncan. Great happiness! 85

      Ross. That now

      Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition:

      Nor would we deign him burial of his men

      Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch

      Ten thousand dollars to our general use. 90

      Duncan. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive

      Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death,

      And with his former title greet Macbeth.

      Ross. I'll see it done.

      Duncan. What he hath lost noble Macbeth