FIRST WITCH:
Where have you been, sister?
SECOND WITCH:
Killing pigs.
THIRD WITCH:
Sister, where were you?
FIRST WITCH:
A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her lap,
And munched, and munched, and munched. “Give me,” said I.
“Begone, witch!” the fat, sloppy woman cries.
Her husband has gone to see Aleppo, master of the Tiger.
Only I’ll sail there in a sieve,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I’ll do harm, I’ll do harm, and I’ll do harm.
SECOND WITCH:
I’ll give you a wind for your sail.
FIRST WITCH:
You are kind.
THIRD WITCH:
And I will give you another one.
FIRST WITCH:
I myself have all the other winds.
And they blow at all the ports.
They know all the quarters
On a sailor’s compass.
I will drain him as dry as hay.
Sleep will not hang night or day
On the roof of his house;
He shall live like a man under a curse.
Worn out with fatigue for a week, and very cross,
He will waste away, droop in health and spirit .
Though his ship will not be lost,
It will be tossed about on the rough ocean.
Look what I have.
SECOND WITCH:
Show me, show me.
FIRST WITCH:
I have a sea captain’s thumb here, Whose ship was wrecked as he was coming home.
THIRD WITCH:
A drum, a drum! Macbeth does come.
ALL:
The three witches, hand in hand,
Messengers of the events on the sea and land,
In this way are scheming, scheming.
Three times to you, and three times to me,
And three times again, to make up nine.
Quiet! The charm’s going to bring things to a head.
MACBETH:
I have never seen a day that is so disgustingly filthy and beautiful.
BANQUO:
How far is it to the town of Forres? What are these things
With shrunken skin and wild clothes,
That don’t look not like they live on earth,
Only are still on it? Are you alive? Or are you any thing
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
Since you each are laying a scrawny finger
Upon your skinny lips. You should be women,
Only since you have beards, I can’t say
That you are women.
MACBETH:
Speak, if you can; what are you?
FIRST WITCH:
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Baron of Glamis!
SECOND WITCH:
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Baron of Cawdor!
THIRD WITCH:
All hail, Macbeth! That shall be king hereafter!
BANQUO:
Good sir, why are you startled, and seem afraid of
Things that sound so beautiful? In the name of truth,
Are you fantastic beings or indeed what
You look like? You greet my noble partner
With current grace and great predictions
Of having nobility and of the hope to be king,
that he seems carried away as well. Only you don’t speak to me.
If you can look into the future,
And say what will happen, and what will not,
Then speak to me, who doesn’t beg or is afraid of
Your favors or your hateful spells.
FIRST WITCH:
Hail!
SECOND WITCH:
Hail!
THIRD WITCH:
Hail!
FIRST WITCH:
You will be less than Macbeth, and much greater.
SECOND WITCH:
Not as happy as Macbeth, only still much happier.
THIRD WITCH:
Your sons will be kings, even though you will not be king.
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
FIRST WITCH:
Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
MACBETH:
Wait, you incomplete speakers, tell me more.
By inheritance, I know I am Baron of Glamis;
Only how am I Baron of Cawdor? The Baron of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and for me to be king
Is beyond belief,
No more than to be Baron of Cawdor. Tell me
How you know these strange things? or why
You interrupt our journey on this blasted heath
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I command you.
BANQUO:
The earth has bubbles, as boiling water has,
And these spirits are like that. Where did they vanished to?
MACBETH:
Into the air; and what seemed solid melted
Like breath into the wind. I wish they had stayed!
BANQUO:
Are you sure we’re talking about what we’ve seen here?
Or have we eaten some plant root
That makes us hallucinate?
MACBETH:
Your children shall be kings.
BANQUO:
You shall be king.
MACBETH:
And Baron of Cawdor too; isn’t that what they said?
BANQUO:
Yes, in just those words. Who’s here?
ROSS:
Macbeth, the king has happily received
The news of your success. And when he heard about
Your personal venture into the rebels’ fight,
His wonders and his praises don’t fight over
What should be yours or his. Silenced with that story,
And reviewing all the events of the day,
He found you in the stout Norwegian’s ranks,
Not afraid of what you did or the
Strange images of death.
The reports came in As thick as hail and every one of them sang
Your praises in your great defense of the kingdom,
And poured such praises down before the King.
ANGUS:
We are sent from our royal master,
To give you thanks;
Only to bring you, announced, into his sight,
Not just pay you for your brave deeds.
ROSS:
And, for as the first installment of a greater honor,
He ordered me, from him, to call you Baron of Cawdor.
I was also ordered to add, hail, most worthy baron,
For the title of Baron of Cawdor is yours.
BANQUO:
What, can the devil speak the truth?
MACBETH:
The Baron of Cawdor lives. Why do you address me
By his name?
ANGUS:
The man who was the Baron still lives,
Only lives that life which he deserves to lose
Under the death penalty. I don’t know whether he combined
Forces with those of Norway, or aided the rebel
With hidden help and supplies, or that with both
He labored to overthrow his country’s government,
Only his treasons, punishable by death, confessed and proven,
have caused his downfall.
MACBETH:
[Aside.] Glamis, and Baron of Cawdor.
The greatest hurdle is behind me. Thanks for your pains.
Don’t you hope your children shall be kings,
When those things that gave the Baron of Cawdor to me
Promised no less to your children?
BANQUO:
That, my best friend,
Might still inflame you with passion for the crown,
In addition to the title of the Baron of Cawdor.
Only it ‘s strange. And often the instruments of darkness
Tell us truths to win us over and so harm ourselves,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray his purposes
Of most serious results.
Cousins, a word, I beg you.
MACBETH:
[Aside.] Those creatures told two truths
As happy prologues to my ascending
The throne. I thank you, gentlemen.
[Aside.] This supernatural meeting
Can’t be bad, only it can’t be good either. If it’s bad,
Why has it given me promise of success,
That began with a truth? I am Baron of Cawdor.
If it’s good, why do I give in to that suggestion
Whose horrid image makes my hair stand on end,
And makes my heart pound so hard they knock at my ribs,
Against my will to stay calm? My current fears
Are less than horrible imaginings.
My thought, whose murder is still only a fantastic idea,
So shakes my manhood, that functioning like a man
Is smothered in unfounded allegations; and nothing is
Only what is not.
Group members:Sui Muhong,Edwin Ho,Ong Haomin,Liu Luyao,Ma Mengdie
GESS 2011 Literature Unit: Macbeth 