Macbeth. William Shakespeare

      [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,

      And mounch’d, and mounch’d, and mounch’d. 5

      ‘Give me’ quoth I.

      ‘Aroint thee, witch!’ the rump-fed ronyon cries.

      Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ th’ Tiger;

      But in a sieve I’ll thither sail

      And, like a rat without a tail, 10

      I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do.

       Second Witch

      I’ll give thee a wind,

       First Witch

      Th’art kind.

       Third Witch

      And I another.

       First Witch

      I myself have all the other; 15

      And the very ports they blow,

      All the quarters that they know

      I’ th’ shipman’s card.

      I’ll drain him dry as hay:

      Sleep shall neither night nor day 20

      Hang upon his pent-house lid;

      He shall live a man forbid;

      Weary sev’nights, nine times nine,

      Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.

      Though his bark cannot be lost, 25

      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,

      Wreck’d as homeward he did come. 30

       [Drum within.]

       Third Witch

      A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.

       All

      The Weird Sisters, hand in hand,

      Posters of the sea and land,

      Thus do go about, about;

      Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, 35

      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.

       Banquo

      How far is’t call’d to Forres? What are these,

      So withered, and so wild in their attire, 40

      That look not like th’ inhabitants o’ th’ earth,

      And yet are on’t? Live you, or are you aught

      That man may question? You seem to understand me,

      By each at once her choppy finger laying

      Upon her skinny lips. You should be women, 45

      And yet your beards forbid me to interpret

      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 hall, Macbeth! Hail to thee. Thane of Cawdor!

       Third Witch

      All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter! 50

       Banquo

      Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear

      Things that do sound so fair? I’ th’ name of truth,

      Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

      Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner

      You greet with present grace and great prediction 55

      Of noble having and of royal hope,

      That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not.

      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 60

      Your favours nor your hate.

       First Witch

      Hail!

       Second Witch

      Hail!

       Third Witch

      Hail!

       First Witch

      Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 65

       Second Witch

      Not so happy, yet much happier.

       Third Witch

      Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.

      So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

       First Witch

      Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

       Macbeth

      Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more. 70

      By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis;

      But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives,

      A prosperous gentleman; and to be King

      Stands not within the prospect of belief,

      No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence 75

      You owe this strange intelligence, or why

      Upon this blasted heath you stop our way

      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? 80

       Macbeth

      Into the air; and what seem’d corporal melted

      As breath into the wind. Would they had stay’d!