[bell tolls]
[witch] When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
[witch 2] When the hurly-burly's done.
When the battle's lost and won.
[witch 3] Where the place?
[witch 2] Upon the heath.
[witch 3] There to meet with Macbeth. [witch 3] There to meet with Macbeth.
[witch 1] Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
[clanks]
[wind howling]
[bird caws]
[footsteps]
Hail, brave friend.
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil as though didst leave it.
Doubtful it stood.
As two spent swimmers that do cling together and choke their art.
The merciless Macdonwald,
with fortune on his damned quarrel smiling,
showed like a rebel's whore.
But all's too weak.
For brave Macbeth-- well he deserves that name--
discerning fortune, with his brandished steel which smoked with bloody execution,
like valor's minion carved out his passage till he faced the slave. like valor's minion carved out his passage till he faced the slave.
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
till he unseamed him from the nave to the chops
and fixed his head upon our battlements.
Valiant cousin. Worthy gentleman.
No sooner justice had with valor armed
compelled these skipping kerns to trust their heels…
but the Norwegian lord, surveying vantage, with furbished arms
and new supplies of men began a fresh assault.
Dismayed not this our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
[chuckles] Yes.
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe.
I cannot tell.
[grunts]
My gashes cry for help.
God save the king.
[king] Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
From Fife, great King,
where the Norwegian banners flout the sky and fan our people cold. where the Norwegian banners flout the sky 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 Macbeth and Banquo, lapped in proof,
confronted him with self-comparisons.
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, curbing his lavish spirit.
And, to conclude…
the victory fell to us.
Great happiness. [chuckles]
No more the Thane of Cawdor shall deceive our bosom interest.
- No. - Go pronounce his present death.
I'll see it done.
And with his former title…
greet Macbeth.
[wind gusts]
[bird chattering] [bird chattering]
[chattering continues]
[witch 1] Where hast thou been, sister?
[witch 2] Killing swine.
[witch 3] Sister, where thou?
[witch 1 gasps] Look what I have.
[witch 2] Show me. Show me!
[witch 1] Here I have a sailor's thumb, wrecked as homeward he did come.
- [drum beats] - [witch 2 gasps] A drum. A drum!
[witch 1] Macbeth doth come.
[witch 3] Aye.
In a sieve I'll thither sail.
[witch 2] And, like a rat without a tail, I'll do, I'll do and I'll do.
I'll drain him dry as hay. I'll drain him dry as hay.
[witch 1] Sleep shall neither night nor day…
[witch 3] …hang upon his penthouse lid.
[witch 2] He shall live a man forbid.
[witch 1, singsongy] Weary sennights nine times nine
shall he dwindle, peak and pine.
The weird sisters, hand in hand.
[witch 3] Posters of the sea and land.
[witch 1] Thus do go about, about.
[witch 2] Thrice to thine and thrice to mine.
And thrice again to make up, uh--
[witch 1] Nine.
[cawing]
Peace.
The charm's wound up.
[man chuckles]
Ah, so foul and fair a day I have not seen.
[man 2] How far is it to Forres?
What are these? So withered and so wild in their attire,
that look not like the inhabitants of the earth, and yet are on it.
Live you? Or are you aught that man may question?
Speak, if you can. What are you?
[witch 1] All hail, Macbeth.
Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis.
[witches, together] All hail, Macbeth. Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
[witch 3] All hail, Macbeth.
That shalt be king hereafter.
Are ye fantastical? Or that indeed which outwardly ye show? Are ye fantastical? Or that indeed which outwardly ye show?
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 favor nor your hate.
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
Not so happy, yet much happier.
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.
[witches, together] So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo.
Banquo and Macbeth.
All hail.
Stay, you imperfect speakers. Tell me more.
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.
Say from whence you owe this strange intelligence?
Or why upon this blasted heath you stop our way with such prophetic greeting?
[Banquo] The earth hath bubbles, as the water has.
And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?
And what seemed corporal melted as breath into the wind.
Would they had stayed.
[cawing]
[chuckles] Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root that takes the reason prisoner?
Your children shall be kings.
You shall be king.
And Thane of Cawdor too. Went it not so?
To the selfsame tune and words. To the selfsame tune and words.
[horse whinnies]
[man] Who goes there?
Psst, psst, psst.
The king hath happily received, Macbeth, the news of thy success.
And when he reads thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
his wonders and his praises do contend which should be thine or his.
[man 2] We are sent to give thee from our royal master thanks.
Only to herald thee into his sight, not pay thee.
And, for an earnest of a greater honor,
he bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor.
In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane. In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane.
For it is thine.
What, can the devil speak true?
The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me in borrowed robes?
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 he labored in his country's wrack, I know not.
But treasons capital, confessed and proved…
have overthrown him.
Thanks for your pains.
Glamis and Thane of Cawdor.
The greatest is behind. The greatest is behind.
Do you not hope your children shall be kings?
When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me promised no less to them?
That trusted home might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
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 us in deepest consequence.
[Macbeth] Hmm.
[men chattering, distant]
This supernatural soliciting cannot be ill, cannot be good.
If ill, why hath it given me earnest of success, commencing in a truth?
I am Thane of Cawdor.
[horse whinnies, distant]
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 are less than horrible imaginings.
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
shakes so my single state of man that function is smothered in surmise,
and nothing is, but what is not.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me without my stir.
- [swords scrape] - [men cheering]
Come what come may.
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
[woman] "They met me in the day of success.
And I have learned by the perfectest report,
they have more in them than mortal knowledge.
When I burned in desire to question them further,
they made themselves air, into which they vanished.
Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it,
came missives from the king, who all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor,'
by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me
and referred me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that shalt be.' and referred me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that shalt be.'
This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness,
that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing
by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee.
Lay it to thy heart, and farewell."
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor.
And shalt be what thou art promised.
Yet do I fear thy nature.
It is too full of the milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way.
Thou wouldst be great.
Art not without ambition, but without the illness should attend it.
What thou wouldst highly, that wouldst thou holily.
Wouldst not play false, and yet wouldst wrongly win.
[inhales deeply]
Hie thee hither,
that I may pour my spirits in thine ear.
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
all that impedes thee from the golden round.
[chattering]
Is execution done on Cawdor?
My liege.
I have spoke with one that saw him die,
who did report that very frankly he confessed his treasons,
implored Your Highness's 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. 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.
- [horse whinnies] - [soldiers chattering]
O worthiest cousin.
The sin of my ingratitude even now was heavy on me.
Only I have left to say, more is thy due than more than all can pay.
The service and the loyalty I owe, in doing it, pays itself.
Welcome hither.
I have begun to plant thee and will labor to make thee full of growing.
Noble Banquo, that hast no less deserved,
nor must be known no less to have done so,
let me enfold thee and hold thee to my heart.
There if I grow, the harvest is your own.
My plenteous joys, wanton in fullness,
seek to hide themselves in drops of sorrow. seek to hide themselves in drops of sorrow.
Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
and you whose places are the nearest,
know we will establish our estate upon our eldest, Malcolm…
- [people murmuring] - …whom we name hereafter
prince of Cumberland.
Which honor must not unaccompanied invest him only,
but signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine on all deservers.
From hence to Inverness, and bind us further to you.
I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful
the hearing of my wife with your approach, so humbly take my leave.
My worthy Cawdor.
Let's after him, whose care is gone before to bid us welcome.
It is a peerless kinsman.
Prince of Cumberland.
That is a step on which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, That is a step on which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
for in my way it lies.
Stars, hide your fires.
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
[woman] The king comes here tonight.
Thou art mad to say it. Is not thy master with him?
So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming.
One of my fellows had the speed of him.
Give him tending. He brings great news.
[chuckles]
[cawing]
The raven himself is hoarse
that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements.
Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts.
Unsex me here,
and fill me from the crown to the toe topful of direst cruelty.
Make thick my blood.
Stop up the access and passage to remorse, Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose,
nor keep peace between the effect and it.
Come to my woman's breasts
and take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
wherever in your sightless substances you wait on nature's mischief.
Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
that my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark to cry, "Hold. Hold."
Great Glamis. [chuckles]
Worthy Cawdor. Worthy Cawdor.
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter.
Thy letters have transported me beyond this ignorant present,
and I feel now the future in the instant.
My dearest love.
Duncan comes here tonight.
And when goes hence?
Tomorrow, as he purposes.
O, never shall sun that morrow see.
Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters.
To beguile the time, look like the time.
Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.
He that's coming must be provided for.
And you shall put this night's great business into my dispatch. And you shall put this night's great business into my dispatch.
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Only look up clear.
To alter favor ever is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.
[horse whinnies]
[birds chirping]
This castle hath a pleasant seat.
The air nimbly and sweetly recommends itself unto our gentle senses.
This guest of summer, 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. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, the air is delicate.
- [distant thud] - See, see, our honored hostess.
All our service in every point twice done and then done double
were poor and single business to contend against those honors deep and broad
wherewith Your Majesty loads our house.
Where is the Thane of Cawdor?
We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose to be his purveyor.
But he rides well. And his great love, sharp as his spur,
hath helped him to his home before us.
Fair and noble hostess, we are your guest tonight.
Give me your hand.
Conduct me to mine host.
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… [sighs] But here… [sighs]
…upon this bank and shoal of time, we'd jump the life to come.
[speaking indistinctly]
[laughs]
But in these cases we still have judgment here.
That we but teach bloody instructions,
which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.
This evenhanded justice commends
the ingredience of our poisoned chalice to our own lips.
He's here in double trust.
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
strong both against the deed.
Then, as his host,
who should against his murderer shut the door, not bear the knife myself.
Besides, this Duncan hath borne his faculties so meek,
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 newborn babe, striding the blast,
or heaven's cherubim, horsed upon the sightless couriers of the air,
shall blow this horrid deed in every eye, that tears shall drown the wind. shall blow this horrid deed in every eye, that tears shall drown the wind.
I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent…
only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself and falls on the other.
- [door thuds] - [footsteps approaching]
How now. What news?
He has almost supped.
Hath he asked for me?
Know you not he has?
We will proceed no further in this business.
He hath honored me of late.
And I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people,
which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
not cast aside so soon.
Was the hope drunk wherein you dressed yourself?
Hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale at what it did so freely?
From this time such I account thy love.
Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valor as thou art in desire? Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valor as thou art in desire?
Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
and live a coward in thine own esteem,
letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," like the poor cat in the adage?
Prithee, peace.
I dare do all that may become a man. Who dares do more is none.
What beast was't, then, made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man.
And, to be more than what you were, you would be so much more the man.
I have given suck,
and know how tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me.
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums, and dashed the brains out,
had I so sworn as you have done to this.
If we should fail?
We fail.
But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not fail.
When Duncan is asleep,
whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey soundly invite him, whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey soundly invite him,
his two chamberlains will I with wine and wassail so convince
that memory, the warder of the brain, shall be a fume,
and the receipt of reason a limbeck only.
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 have composed nothing but males.
Will it not be received, when we have marked with blood
those sleepy two of his own chamber and used their very daggers,
that they have done't?
Who dares receive it other,
as we shall make our griefs and clamor roar upon his death?
I am settled…
and bend up each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show. Away, and mock the time with fairest show.
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
The moon is down. I've not heard the clock.
She goes down at 12.
I take it, 'tis later, sir.
Here. Take my sword.
There's husbandry in heaven.
Their candles are all out.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, and yet I would not sleep.
Merciful powers, restrain in me the cursed thoughts
that nature gives way to in repose.
- Give me my sword. Who's there? - [Macbeth] A friend.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's abed.
He hath been in unusual pleasure,
and sent forth great largess to your offices.
Being unprepared, our will became the servant to defect,
which else should free have wrought.
[Banquo] All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters.
To you they have showed some truth.
I think not of them.
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
we would spend it in some words upon that business,
if you would grant the time.
[Banquo] At your kindest leisure.
[Macbeth] Repose the while.
[Banquo] Thanks, sir. The like to you.
[Macbeth] Go bid thy mistress,
when my drink is ready, she strike upon the bell.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
the handle toward my hand?
Come…
let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight?
Or art thou a dagger of the mind, a false creation,
proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet…
in form as palpable as this which now I draw.
Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going.
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
or else worth all the rest.
I see thee still,
and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before.
[chuckling] There's no such thing.
It is the bloody business that informs thus to mine eyes.
Thou sure and firm-set earth, hear not my steps, which way they walk,
for fear thy very stones prate of my whereabout.
- [bell tolls, distant] - I go, and it is done.
The bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven…
or to hell.
[footsteps]
[grunting, groaning]
[grunting, groaning continues]
- [bird caws] - [Lady Macbeth] Hark!
- Peace. - [distant thudding] - Peace. - [distant thudding]
[breathes heavily]
[Lady Macbeth] It was the owl that shrieked,
the fatal bellman, which gives the stern'st good night.
He is about it.
[thudding continues]
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold.
What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
The doors are open,
and the surfeited grooms do mock their charge with snores.
Amen.
I have drugged their possets,
that death and nature do contend about them,
whether they live or die.
[thudding continues]
Alack!
I am afraid they have awaked, and 'tis not done.
The attempt and not the deed confounds us.
Hark.
I laid their daggers ready. He could not miss 'em! I laid their daggers ready. He could not miss 'em!
- [door opens] - [footsteps]
- My husband. - [sighs]
I have done the deed.
Didst thou not hear a noise?
- When? - Now.
- As I descended? - Aye.
Hark.
[sighs] This is a sorry sight.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
There's one did laugh in his sleep,
and one cried, "Murder!" that they did wake each other.
I stood and heard them.
But they did say their prayers, and addressed them again to sleep.
The grooms were lodged together.
One cried, "God bless us,"
and, "Amen," the other,
as they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
Listening their fear, I could not say "amen" when they did say, "God bless us."
Consider it not so deeply.
But wherefore could not I pronounce "amen"?
I had most need of blessing, and "amen" stuck in my throat.
These deeds must not be thought after these ways.
So, it will make us mad. So, it will make us mad.
Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more.
Macbeth hath murdered sleep."
The innocent sleep.
Sleep that knits up the raveled sleeve of care,
the death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
- chief nourisher in life's feast. - What do you mean?
Still it cried, "Sleep no more," to all the house.
"Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more."
"Macbeth shall sleep no more."
Who was it that thus cried?
Why, worthy Thane, you do unbend your noble strength,
to think so brainsickly of things.
Go. Get some water, and wash this filthy witness from your hand.
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there. Go. Carry them. And smear the sleepy grooms with blood.
I'll go no more. I'm afraid to think what I have done.
Look on't again I dare not.
Infirm of purpose.
Give me the daggers. Give me the daggers.
The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures.
'Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, for it must seem their guilt.
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
[distant thudding]
Whence is that knocking?
How is it with me, when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? Ha! They pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?
No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine,
making the green one red.
- [screams] - [basin clatters]
To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! Wake Duncan with thy knocking!
I would thou couldst.
[thudding]
[thud]
- [thud] - [gasps]
[groans]
Oh, here's a knocking indeed.
[thudding continues]
[chuckles] If a man were porter of hell-gate,
he should have old turning the key.
Knock, knock!
Who's there, in the name of Beelzebub? [chuckles]
Here's a-- Here's a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty.
Come in time. Here you'll sweat for it.
- [chuckles] - [thudding continues]
Knock, knock.
Here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale,
yet could not equivocate to heaven. [chuckles]
O, come in, equivocator. O, come in, equivocator.
Knock, knock. Who's there?
O, here's an English tailor, come hither for stealing out of a French hose.
Come in, tailor. Here you may roast your goose.
- [grunts] - [thudding continues]
Knock, knock. Never at quiet. [grunts]
O, but this place is too cold for hell.
I'll devil-porter it no further. Anon!
[door opens]
- [man] Aha. - [porter] I pray you, remember the porter.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, that you do lie so late?
Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock.
And drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
- What three things? - Nose-painting, sleep and urine.
Ooh! Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes.
It provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.
Therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery.
It makes him, and it mars him. It sets him on, and it takes him off.
It persuades him, disheartens him, makes him stand to, and not stand to. It persuades him, disheartens him, makes him stand to, and not stand to.
[chuckles]
In conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
[Macbeth] Good morrow, both.
Is the king stirring, worthy Thane?
Not yet.
He did command me to call timely on him. I have almost slipped the hour.
Make so bold to call.
[older thane] Goes the king hence today?
He does. He did appoint so.
[older thane] The night has been unruly.
Where we lay, our chimneys were blown down.
And, as they say, lamentings heard in the air. And, as they say, lamentings heard in the air.
Strange screams of death and prophesying, with accents terrible, of dire combustion
and confused events new hatched to the woeful time.
- [knocks] - And the obscure bird…
- [younger thane] Your Majesty? - …clamored the livelong night.
Some say, the earth was feverous and did shake.
'Twas a rough night.
[younger thane] Horror! Horror! Horror!
Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee.
- What's the matter? - Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope the Lord's anointed temple,
and stole thence the life of the building.
Mean you His Majesty?
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight with a new Gorgon.
Do not bid me speak. See, and then speak yourselves.
Awake! Awake! Ring the alarum bell!
- [bell tolls] - Murder and treason!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, to countenance this horror! As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, to countenance this horror!
- Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! Awake! - [tolling continues]
Up! Up! And see the great doom's image!
Malcolm! Banquo!
Had I but died an hour before this chance…
- [door closes] - …I had lived a blessed time.
[guards shouting]
For, from this instant,
there's nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys.
[Lady Macbeth] What's the business,
that such a hideous trumpet calls to parley the sleepers of the house?
- Renown and grace is dead. - [Lady Macbeth] Speak! Speak!
The wine of life is drawn,
and the mere lees is left this vault to brag of.
[younger thane] Banquo. Banquo.
Our royal master's murdered.
- [crowd clamors, cries] - Woe, alas!
- [Lady Macbeth] What, in our house? - Too cruel anywhere.
- What is amiss? - You are, and do not know it.
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood is stopped. The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood is stopped.
The very source of it is stopped.
[younger thane] Your father…
- is murdered. - [crowd gasps, murmurs]
Oh.
By whom?
Those of his chamber, as it seemed, had done it.
Their hands and faces were all badged with blood.
Oh, yet I do repent me of my fury, that I did kill them.
- [crowd gasps, murmurs] - [man] Why?
Wherefore did you so?
Who can be wise, amazed,
temperate and furious, loyal and neutral, in an instant?
No man.
The expedition of my violent love outran the pauser, reason.
Here lay Duncan,
his silver skin laced with his golden blood.
And his gashed stabs looked like a breach in nature for ruin's wasteful entrance.
There, the murderers, steeped in the colors of their trade, There, the murderers, steeped in the colors of their trade,
their daggers unmannerly breeched with gore.
Who could refrain, that had a heart to love,
and in that heart courage to make his love known?
- [crowd gasps] - Look to the lady.
And when we have our naked frailties hid, which suffer in exposure,
let us meet,
and question this most bloody piece of work, to know it further.
[crowd chattering]
Why do we hold our tongues,
that most may claim this argument for ours?
Let's away.
- Our tears are not yet brewed. - Let's not consort with them.
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office which the false man does easy.
- I'll to England. - To Ireland, I.
Our separated fortune shall keep us both the safer. Our separated fortune shall keep us both the safer.
Where we are…
there's daggers in men's smiles.
The near in blood, the nearer bloody.
[Malcolm] This murderous shaft that's shot hath not yet lighted.
And our safest way is to avoid the aim.
Therefore, to horse. And let us not be dainty of leave-taking.
[hooves clopping]
Here comes the good Macduff.
[sighs]
How goes the world, sir, now?
Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Alas, the day. What good could they pretend?
Well, they were suborned.
Malcolm and Donalbain,
the king's two sons, are stolen away and fled.
Which puts upon them suspicion of the deed.
Then 'tis most like the sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth?
He's already named, and gone to Dunsinane to be invested.
Will you to Dunsinane?
[chuckles]
No, cousin. I'll home to Fife.
Well…
[sighs]
I will thither.
May you see things well done there. Adieu.
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new.
[man] ♪ He that has and a little tiny wit ♪ [man] ♪ He that has and a little tiny wit ♪
♪ With a heigh-ho, the wind and the rain ♪
♪ Must make content With his fortunes fit ♪
♪ For the rain it raineth every day ♪
Threescore and ten I can remember well,
within the volume of which time
I have seen hours dreadful and things strange.
But this sore night hath trifled former knowings.
[sighs] Good father.
Thou seest the heavens,
as troubled with man's act, threatens the bloody stage. as troubled with man's act, threatens the bloody stage.
By the clock, 'tis day,
and yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp.
Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
that darkness does the face of earth entomb,
when living light should kiss it?
'Tis unnatural, even like the deed that's done.
On Tuesday last, a falcon, towering in her pride of place,
was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed.
And Duncan's horses, a thing most strange and certain,
beauteous and swift,
the minions of their race, turned wild in nature,
broke their stalls, flung out, contending 'gainst obedience,
as they would make war with mankind.
'Tis said they ate each other. 'Tis said they ate each other.
[wind whistling]
[clanks]
[footsteps]
Thou hast it now.
King, Cawdor,
Glamis…
all. As the weird women promised.
And, I fear, thou play'dst most foully for it.
Yet it was said it should not stand in thy posterity,
but that myself should be the root and father of many kings.
If there come truth from them--
as upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine--
why, by the verities on thee made good,
may they not be my oracles as well, and set me up in hope?
But hush. No more.
[Macbeth laughs]
Here's our chief guest.
If he had been forgotten, it had been as a gap in our great feast,
and all-thing unbecoming.
Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir. And I'll request your presence. Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir. And I'll request your presence.
Ride you this afternoon?
Aye, my good lord.
We should have else desired your good advice,
which still hath been both grave and prosperous, in this day's council.
But we'll take tomorrow.
Is it far you ride?
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'twixt this and supper.
Go not my horse the better,
I must become a borrower of the night for a dark hour or twain.
Fail not our feast.
My lord, I will not.
We hear, our bloody cousins are bestowed in England and in Ireland,
not confessing their cruel parricide.
But of that tomorrow,
when therewithal we shall have cause of state craving us jointly.
Hie you to horse. Adieu, till you return at night.
Goes Fleance with you?
Aye, my good lord.
I wish your horses swift and sure of foot.
And so I do commend them to your backs.
Farewell.
Attend those men our pleasure?
They do, my lord.
[footsteps approaching]
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
- It was. - So please Your Highness.
Well then, now have you considered of my speeches?
Know that it was Banquo in the times past
which held you so under fortune,
which you thought had been our innocent self.
This I made good to you in our last conference, passed in probation with you,
how you were borne in hand, how crossed, the instruments,
who wrought with them, and all things else
that might to half a soul and to a notion crazed say,
"Thus did Banquo."
You made it known to us.
I did so, and went further, which is now our point of second meeting. I did so, and went further, which is now our point of second meeting.
Do you find your patience so predominant in your nature that you can let this go?
Are you so…
gospeled to pray for this good man and for his issue,
whose heavy hand hath bowed you to the grave and beggared yours forever?
We are men, my liege.
Aye, in the catalog ye go for men.
Now, if you have a station in the file, not in the worst rank of manhood, say it.
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
whose execution takes your enemy off.
I am one, my liege,
whom the vile blows and buffets of the world have so incensed
that I'm reckless what I do to spite the world.
And I another.
So weary with disasters, tugged with fortune,
that I would set my life on any chance, to mend it, or be rid on't.
Both of you know Banquo was your enemy.
- [mumbles] - True, my lord. - [mumbles] - True, my lord.
So is he mine.
And in such bloody distance,
that every minute of his being thrusts against my nearest of life!
And though I could with barefaced power sweep him from my sight
and bid my will avouch it, yet I must not.
And thence it is that I to your assistance do make love,
masking the business from the common eye for sundry weighty reasons.
We shall, my lord, perform what you command us.
Though our lives--
Your spirits shine through you.
It must be done tonight, and something from the palace.
Always thought that I require a clearness.
And with him, to leave no rubs nor botches in the work,
Fleance, his son, must embrace the fate of that dark hour.
We are resolved, my lord.
Resolve yourselves apart.
[bell tolls, distant]
[chattering]
Is Banquo gone from court?
Aye, madam, but returns again tonight.
[footsteps approaching]
How now, my lord.
Why do you keep alone,
of sorriest fancies your companions making,
using those thoughts which should indeed have died with them they think on?
Things without all remedy should be without regard.
What's done is done.
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She'll close and be herself,
whilst our poor malice remains in danger of her former tooth.
Better be with the dead, whom we, to gain our peace,
have sent to peace, than on the torture of the mind to lie in restless ecstasy. have sent to peace, than on the torture of the mind to lie in restless ecstasy.
Duncan is in his grave.
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well.
Treason has done his worst. Nor steel, nor poison,
malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing… can touch him further.
Come on. Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks.
Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife.
Thou knowest that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
And in his royalty of nature reigns that which would be feared.
'Tis much he dares.
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
he hath a wisdom that guide his valor to act in safety.
There's none but he whose being I do fear.
You must leave this.
He chid the sisters when first they put the name of king upon me,
and bade them speak to him. and bade them speak to him.
Then prophet-like they hailed him father to a line of kings.
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
put a barren scepter in my grip,
thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand.
No son of mine succeeding.
If't be so, for Banquo's issue have I filed my mind.
For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered.
Put rancors in the vessels of my peace only for them.
And mine eternal jewel given to the common enemy of man,
to make them kings!
The seeds of Banquo kings!
But in them nature's copy is not eterne.
There's comfort yet.
They are assailable. Then be thou jocund.
Ere the bat hath flown his cloistered flight.
Ere to black Hecate's summons the shard-borne beetle
with his drowsy hums hath rung night's yawning peal,
there shall be done a deed of dreadful note. there shall be done a deed of dreadful note.
What's to be done?
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
till thou applaud the deed.
Come, seeling night,
scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day.
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
cancel and tear to pieces that great bond which keeps me pale.
Light thickens.
And the crow makes wing to the rooky wood.
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse,
as night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
Thou marvel'st at my words. But hold thee still.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
Who did bid thee join with us?
Macbeth.
He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers our offices
and what we have to do to the direction just.
Then stand with us.
[hooves clopping, horse blusters]
[man 2] A light. A light!
[gasps]
Give us a light there, boy.
It'll be rain tonight.
Let it come down.
[grunting]
[horse whinnies]
[breathes heavily]
[Banquo] Fleance!
[groans, gasps]
Fly, Fleance! Fly!
There's but one down. The son is fled. There's but one down. The son is fled.
We have lost best half of our affair.
Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
[breathing heavily]
[thunder rumbles]
[guests chattering]
How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person at our great bidding?
- Did you send to him, sir? - [older thane] Your Majesty.
You know your own degrees. Sit down.
At first and last the hearty welcome.
Anon we'll drink a measure the table round.
[wind howling] [wind howling]
- There's blood upon thy face. - 'Tis Banquo's then.
Ah, 'tis better thee without than he within.
Is he dispatched?
My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him.
Thou art the best o' the cutthroats.
Yet he's good that did the like for Fleance.
If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.
Most royal sir…
uh…
Fleance is scaped.
Then comes my fit again. I had else been perfect.
But Banquo's safe?
Aye, my good lord.
Safe in a ditch he bides, with twenty trenched gashes on his head.
The least a death to nature.
There the grown serpent lies.
The worm that fled hath nature that in time will venom breed,
no teeth for the present.
Get thee gone.
[Lady Macbeth] My royal lord, you do not give the cheer. [Lady Macbeth] My royal lord, you do not give the cheer.
Sweet remembrancer.
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health--
- On both. - [guests chuckle]
Please, Your Highness, sit.
Here had we now our country's honor roofed,
were the graced person of our Banquo present,
who may I rather challenge for unkindness than pity for mischance.
[older thane] His absence, sir, lays blame upon his promise.
Please't Your Highness to grace us with your royal company.
- [distant thud] - [glass shatters]
[older thane] Here is a place reserved.
[wind gusts]
[footsteps approaching]
[older thane] What is't that moves Your Highness?
Which of you have done this?
[older thane] What, my good lord?
Thou canst not say I did it.
[guests murmur]
Never shake thy gory locks at me!
Gentles, all rise. His Highness is not well. Gentles, all rise. His Highness is not well.
Sit, worthy friends.
My lord is often thus, and hath been from his youth.
Pray you, keep seat.
The fit is momentary. Upon a thought he will again be well.
- [thunder rumbles] - Are you a man?
Aye, and a bold one,
that dare look upon that which might appall the devil.
This is the very painting of thy fear.
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, led you to Duncan.
If I stand here, I saw him!
Fie, for shame.
The time has been, that, when the brains were out,
the man would die, and there an end!
But now they rise again, with twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
and push us to our stools!
This is more strange than such a murder is!
[grunting]
Avaunt! Quit my sight!
Thy bones are marrowless!
Thy blood is cold!
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes.
[grunting]
Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence! Unreal mockery, hence!
[breathes heavily]
Why, so… [breathes deeply]
…being gone…
I am a man again.
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends.
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing to those that know me.
You have displaced the mirth,
broke the good meeting, with most admired disorder.
Can such things be and overcome us like a summer's cloud,
without our special wonder?
You make me strange even to the disposition that I owe,
when now I think you can behold such sights,
and keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, when mine are blanched with fear.
- What sights, my lord? - I pray you, speak not.
He grows worse and worse. Question enrages him.
At once, good night.
Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.
Good night. And better health attend His Majesty--
A kind good night to all.
It will have blood. [sighs]
They say…
blood will have blood.
Stones have been known to move, trees to speak.
Augurs and understood relations have by the magpies
and crows and rooks brought forth the secret'st man of blood.
What is the night?
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
How sayest thou, that Macduff denies his person at our great bidding?
Did you send to him, sir?
I hear it by the way. But I will send. I hear it by the way. But I will send.
There's not a one of them but in his house I keep a servant feed.
I will tomorrow unto the weird sisters. More shall they speak.
I am in blood stepped in so far
that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er.
[chuckles]
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand.
Which must be acted…
ere they be scanned.
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Come, we'll to sleep.
My strange and self-abuse is the initiate fear that wants hard use.
We are yet but young in deed.
[bell tolls, distant]
[tolling continues]
[witch 2] 'Tis time.
[witch 3] 'Tis time.
[distant thud]
[thudding]
- [scraping] - [thudding continues]
[thunder rumbles]
[witch 2] By the pricking of my thumbs,
something wicked this way comes.
How now, you secret, black and midnight hags.
What is't you do?
A deed without a name.
I conjure you,
by that which you profess, howe'er you come to know it, answer me.
Even till destruction sicken, answer me to what I ask you.
[together] Speak.
- [witch 2] Demand. - [together] We'll answer.
[witch 1] Say if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, or from our masters?
Call 'em. Let me see 'em.
Double, double toil and trouble.
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
[witches] Double, double toil and trouble. Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble. Fire burn, and cauldron bubble…
- [chokes] - [bird caws]
[witch] Finger of birth-strangled babe,
ditch-delivered by a drab.
[witch 3] Liver of blaspheming Jew,
gall of goat, and slips of yew. gall of goat, and slips of yew.
[witch 1] Silvered in the moon's eclipse, nose of Turk and Tartar's lips.
Here's the blood of a bat.
- [witch 1] Put in that. - [witch 3] Put in that.
[together] Round about the cauldron go.
In the poisoned entrails throw.
[witch 2] For a charm of powerful trouble,
like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Tell me, thou unknown power--
He knows thy thought. Hear his speech, but say thou naught.
[whispering] Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth.
Beware Macduff.
Beware the Thane of Fife.
Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks.
Thou hast harped my fear aright. But one thing more--
[witch 1] He will not be commanded.
Here's another, more potent than the first.
Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth.
Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.
Be bloody, bold and resolute.
Laugh to scorn the power of man,
for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.
Then live, Macduff. What need I fear of thee?
Yet I will make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate.
Thou shalt not live.
That I might tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
and sleep in spite of thunder.
But what is this that rises like the issue of a king,
and wears upon his baby-brow the round and top of sovereignty?
[witch 2] Listen, but speak not to it.
Macbeth shall never vanquished be
until great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill shall come against him.
That will never be.
Who can impress the forest, bid the tree unfix his earthbound root?
Yet my heart throbs to know one thing more.
Tell me, if your art can tell so much. Tell me, if your art can tell so much.
Shall Banquo's issue ever reign in this kingdom?
[witch 1] Seek to know no more.
Seek to know no more.
[hooves clopping, distant]
[horse whinnies]
[door opens]
Saw you the weird sisters?
- No, my lord. - Came they not by you?
No, indeed, my lord.
Infected be the air whereon they ride.
And damned all those that trust them!
I did hear the galloping of horse. Who was't came by?
'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word.
Macduff is fled to England. Macduff is fled to England.
- Fled to England? - Aye, my good lord.
[chuckles]
Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits.
From this moment,
the firstlings of my heart shall be the firstlings of my hand.
And even now, to crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done.
The castle of Macduff I will surprise. Seize upon Fife.
Give to the edge of the sword his wife, his babes,
and all unfortunate souls that trace him in his line.
No boasting like a fool.
This deed I'll do before the purpose cool!
But no more sights!
[door slams]
[older thane] Only, I say, things have been strangely borne.
The gracious Duncan was pitied of Macbeth.
After he was dead.
And the right-valiant Banquo walked too late.
Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance killed, for Fleance fled.
Men must not walk too late. I hear Macduff lives in disgrace.
Sir, can you tell where he bestows himself?
Malcolm, the son of Duncan, from whom this…
tyrant holds the due of birth,
lives in the English court.
Thither Macduff is gone to pray upon his aid.
And this report hath so exasperate Macbeth that he prepares for some attempt at war.
Some holy angel fly to the court of England
and unfold this message ere he come,
that a swift blessing may soon return to this our suffering country…
under a hand accursed. under a hand accursed.
[waves crashing]
[children laughing]
[woman] What had he done, to make him fly the land?
- [man] You must have patience, madam. - [woman] He had none.
His flight was madness.
When our actions do not, our fears do make us traitors.
You know not whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
Wisdom!
To leave his wife, to leave his babes, his mansion and his titles
in a place from whence himself does fly?
He loves us not.
He wants the natural touch.
For the poor wren, the most diminutive of birds,
will fight, her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
My dearest coz, I pray you, school yourself.
But for your husband, he is noble, wise, judicious,
and best knows the fits of the season. and best knows the fits of the season.
I dare not speak much further.
But cruel are the times,
when we're traitors and do not know ourselves,
when we hold rumor from what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
but float upon a wild and violent sea each way and none.
My pretty cousin.
[children laughing, distant]
Fathered he is, and yet he's fatherless.
Sirrah, your father's dead.
And what will you do now? How will you live?
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
Yes, he is dead.
How wilt thou do for a father?
Nay, how will you do for a husband?
[chuckles] Why, I can buy me 20 at any market.
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet with wit enough for thee. Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet with wit enough for thee.
Was my father a traitor, Mother?
Aye, that he was.
What is a traitor?
Why, one that swears and lies.
And be all traitors that do so?
Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
Who must hang them?
Why, the honest men.
Then the liars and swearers are fools,
for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang up them.
- [laughs] - My lady.
How thou talk'st.
Bless you, fair dame!
I am not to you known, though in your state of honor I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly.
- [hooves clopping] - If you will take a homely maid's advice,
be not found here.
Hence, with your little ones.
Whither should I fly? I have done no harm.
[horses whinny]
- [Lady Macduff] But I remember now. - [people shouting]
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm is often laudable,
to do good sometime accounted dangerous folly.
Why then, alas, do I put up that womanly defense,
to say I have done no harm?
[people screaming]
[crash]
[screaming continues]
[footsteps approaching]
Where is your husband?
I hope, in no place so unsanctified where such as thou mayst find him.
- He's a traitor. - [son] Thou liest!
- No! [grunts] - [man] What, you egg!
- [boy grunting] - No, no, no! No!
No! No! No!
[screams]
[Malcolm] Let us seek out some desolate place,
and there weep our sad bosoms empty. and there weep our sad bosoms empty.
[Macduff] Let us rather hold fast the mortal sword,
and like good men bestride our downfall birthdom.
Each new morn new widows howl,
new orphans cry, new sorrows strike heaven on the face,
that it resounds as if it felt with Scotland,
and yelled out like syllable of dolor.
What you've spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
was once thought honest.
See, who comes here?
My ever-gentle cousin.
Welcome hither.
[Malcolm] I know him now.
Good God, betimes remove the means that makes us strangers.
Sir, amen.
Stands Scotland where it did?
[sighs] Alas, poor country.
Almost afraid to know itself.
It cannot be called our mother, but our grave,
where nothing, but who knows nothing, is once seen to smile.
Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air are made, not marked. Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air are made, not marked.
Where violent sorrow seems a modern ecstasy.
What's the newest grief?
That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker.
Each minute teems a new one.
How does my wife?
Why, well.
And all my children?
Well too.
[sighs] The tyrant has not battered at their peace?
No. They were well at peace when I did leave 'em.
Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes it?
When I came hither to transport the tidings,
which I have heavily borne,
there ran a rumor of many worthy fellows that were out.
Now is the time of help.
Your eye in Scotland would create soldiers, make our women fight,
to doff their dire distresses.
[Malcolm] Be it their comfort.
We are coming thither.
Gracious England hath lent us good Siward and ten thousand men.
A stronger and a better soldier none that Christendom gives out. A stronger and a better soldier none that Christendom gives out.
Would I could answer this comfort with the like.
But I have words that would be howled out in the desert air,
where hearing should not latch them.
Mmm. What concern they?
The general cause?
Or is it a fee-grief due to some single breast?
No mind that's honest but in it shares some woe.
Though the main part… [inhales deeply]
…pertains to you alone.
If it be mine, keep it not from me. Quickly let me have it.
Let not your ears despise my tongue forever,
which shall possess them with the heaviest sound that ever yet they heard.
[exhales] I guess at it.
Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes savagely slaughtered.
To relate the manner…
were, on the quarry of this murdered deer, to add the death of you. were, on the quarry of this murdered deer, to add the death of you.
Merciful heaven.
What, man?
Give sorrow words.
The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
My children too?
Wife, children, servants, all that could be found.
- My wife killed too? - I have said.
Be comforted.
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
to cure this deadly grief.
He has no children!
All my pretty ones?
Did you say all?
O hellkite. All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam in one fell swoop?
- Dispute it like a man. - I shall do so!
But I must also feel it as a man. But I must also feel it as a man.
I cannot but remember such things were, that were most precious to me.
Did heaven look on, and would not take their part?
Sinful Macduff.
They were all struck for thee.
Naught that I am, not for their own demerits, but for mine,
fell slaughter on their souls.
- Heaven rest them now. - Be this the whetstone of your sword.
Let grief convert to anger. Blunt not the heart, enrage it.
O, I could play the woman with mine eyes and braggart with my tongue.
But, gentle heavens, cut short all intermission.
Front to front bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself.
Within my sword's length set him.
If he scape…
heaven forgive him too.
[wind howling]
- [waves crashing] - [thudding]
[thudding continues] [thudding continues]
[man] When was it she last walked?
Since His Majesty went into the field,
I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her,
unlock her closet, take forth paper,
fold it, write upon it, read it,
afterwards seal it, and again return to bed.
Yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
In this slumbery agitation,
besides her walking and other actual performances,
what, at any time, have you heard her say?
That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Neither to you nor anyone,
having no witness to confirm my speech.
Lo you, here she comes.
This is her very guise. And, upon my life, fast asleep.
- Observe her. Stand close. - [man] You see, her eyes are open.
Aye, but their senses are shut.
How came she by that light?
She has light by her continually. 'Tis her command.
What is it she does now?
Look, how she rubs her hands.
I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.
[gasps] Yet here's a spot.
- [gasps] - Hark. She speaks.
Out, damned spot. Out, I say.
- One… two. - [dripping]
Why, then, 'tis time to do it.
Hell is murky.
Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard?
What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?
Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now?
[gasps]
- [thudding] - What?
No more o' that, my lord, no more of that.
Oh, go to, go to. You have known what you should not.
She has spoke what she should not. I am sure of that.
Here's the smell of the blood still.
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
[gasps]
[whimpers]
[wails]
[wailing]
[nurse] What a sigh is there.
The heart is sorely charged.
This disease is beyond my practice. This disease is beyond my practice.
Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep
who have died holily in their beds.
God, God forgive us all.
Wash your hands, put on your nightgown.
Look not so pale.
I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried. He cannot come out on's grave.
- [gasps] - [doctor] Foul whisperings are abroad.
Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.
Infected minds to their deaf pillows do discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine than the physician.
- Will she go now to bed? - Directly.
There's knocking at the gate. Come! Come!
Come, come. Give me your hand.
What's done cannot be undone.
To bed.
What wood is this before us?
The wood of Birnam.
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
his cousin Siward and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them.
What does the tyrant?
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
Some say he's mad.
Others that lesser hate him do call it valiant fury.
But, for certain, he cannot buckle his distempered cause within the belt of rule.
Now does he feel his secret murders sticking on his hands.
Those he commands move only in command, nothing in love.
Now does he feel his title hang loose about him,
like a giant's robe upon a dwarfish thief.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?
- There is ten thousand-- - Geese, villain?
Soldiers, sir. Soldiers, sir.
Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, thou lily-livered boy.
What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul.
Those linen cheeks of thine are counselors to fear.
What soldiers, whey-face?
The English force, so please you.
Take thy face hence.
Seyton!
I am sick at heart, when I behold-- Seyton, I say!
This push will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough.
My way of life is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf.
And that which should accompany old age,
as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have.
Seyton, what news more?
All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported.
I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
- Give me mine armor. - 'Tis not needed yet.
I'll put it on. Send out more horses.
Skirr the country round. Hang those that talk of fear.
- Give me mine armor! - [door opens] - Give me mine armor! - [door opens]
How does your patient, doctor?
Uh, not so sick, my lord,
as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from her rest.
Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
raze out the written troubles of the brain
and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom
of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart?
Therein the patient must minister to himself.
Throw physic to the dogs! I'll none of it!
Seyton! Send out!
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
till Birnam Forest come to Dunsinane!
Let every soldier hew him down a bough and bear it before him.
It shall be done.
We learn no other but the confident tyrant keeps still in Dunsinane,
and will endure our setting down before it.
[Malcolm] 'Tis his main hope. [Malcolm] 'Tis his main hope.
And none serve with him but constrained things
whose hearts are absent too.
[Macbeth] Hang out our banners on the outward walls!
The cry is still, "They come!"
Our castle's strength will laugh a siege to scorn.
Here let them lie till famine and the ague eat them up!
[bell tolling]
[people shouting]
[tolling continues]
[shouting continues]
Lead our first battle.
Worthy Macduff and we shall take upon's what else remains to do.
Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight, Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight,
let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
Towards which advance the war!
[soldiers cheer]
[people shouting]
[shouting continues]
[woman] This way! This way!
[Macbeth] Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
we might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
and beat them backward home.
Now near enough.
Your leafy screens throw down. And show like those you are!
Make all our trumpets speak.
Give them all breath,
those clamorous harbingers of blood and death!
- [people screaming] - What is that noise?
[wailing]
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
I have almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been,
my senses would have cooled to hear a night-shriek.
And my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse
and stir as if life were in't.
Wherefore was that cry?
The queen, my lord, is dead.
[exhales]
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
creeps in this petty pace from day to day
to the last syllable of recorded time. to the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle.
Life is but a walking shadow…
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot…
full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
[footsteps approaching]
Gracious my lord, I should report that which I say I saw,
but know not how to do it.
Well, say, sir.
I looked toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
the wood began to move.
[footsteps marching, distant]
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so.
Within this three mile may you see it coming, I say, a moving grove. Within this three mile may you see it coming, I say, a moving grove.
If thou speak'st false,
upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, till famine cling thee.
"Fear not, till Birnam Wood do come to Dunsinane."
And now a wood comes toward Dunsinane.
Arm, arm, and out!
[bell tolls]
If this which he avouches does appear,
there is no flying hence nor tarrying here!
Ring the alarum bell!
Blow, wind! Come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
- [footsteps continue marching] - [tolling continues]
[marching stops]
[footsteps approaching] [footsteps approaching]
What is thy name?
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
No.
Though thou call'st thyself a hotter name than any is in hell.
My name's Macbeth.
[chuckles]
The devil himself could not pronounce a title more hateful to mine ear.
No, nor more fearful.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant.
With my sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st!
Thou wast born of woman.
[grunting]
[Siward groans, pants]
[breathing heavily]
[grunts]
[Macduff] Turn, hellhound, turn!
Of all men else I have avoided thee. But get thee back.
My soul is too much charged with blood of thine already.
I have no words.
My voice is in my sword.
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests. Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests.
I bear a charmed life,
which must not yield, to one of woman born.
Despair thy charm.
And let the angel whom thou still hast served tell thee,
Macduff was from his mother's womb untimely ripped.
Accursed be thy tongue that tells me so.
- I will not fight with thee. - Then yield thee, coward!
I will not yield, to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
and to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane and thou opposed,
being not of woman born, yet I will try the last.
Lay on, Macduff.
And damned be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!"
- [screams, grunts] - [grunts]
[grunting continues]
[screams, grunts]
[Macduff shouts]
[wind whistling]
All hail, King of Scotland.
Hail, King of Scotland!
[all] Hail, King of Scotland! Hail, King of Scotland!
[cawing]
[clanks]
[eerie music playing]