Macbeth

INTRODUCTION TO MACBETH

The tale of Macbeth is one of the most powerful of William Shakespeare’s tragedies, and one which delves into the most cavernous parts of the human psyche. Written in the early years of the 1600s and later published in folio form in 1623, Macbeth follows the corrosion of a Scottish leader’s conscience and sanity after he is given a prophecy of royal ascension.

The characterization of Macbeth and his wife’s psychoses carry much of the play’s arc, but such a play would not be quintessentially Shakespearean without a heavy-handed dose of word play. The three witches who leave prescient breadcrumbs that feed Macbeth’s greed throughout the play allow Macbeth to lean heavily on the words that make up their divinations. This leads to several moments of literary quibble, in which Macbeth becomes overconfident in the witches’ prophecies of his infallibility but is denied such protection in subtle twists of linguistic meaning.

With the prophetic knowledge offered by the witches, Macbeth quickly transforms from a noble and brave Scottish thane into a regicidal usurper, whose all-consuming guilt leads to even more madness and destruction. Often cited as the darkest of William Shakespeare’s plays, Macbeth presents a unique scope into the lives of the powerful and what happens when their greed is left to fester.

DUNCAN, King of Scotland

MALCOLM, son of Duncan

DONALBAIN, son of Duncan

MACBETH, Thane of Glamis, later of Cawdor, later King of Scotland

LADY MACBETH

BANQUO, a thane of Scotland

FLEANCE, Banquo’s son

MACDUFF, Thane of Fife

LADY MACDUFF

SON of Macduff and Lady Macduff

LENNOX, thane and nobleman of Scotland

ROSS, thane and nobleman of Scotland

ANGUS, thane and nobleman of Scotland

SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland

YOUNG SIWARD, Siward’s son

DOCTOR

GENTLEWOMAN attending Lady Macbeth

PORTER

FIRST MURDERER

SECOND MURDERER

THIRD MURDEERER

MESSENGER

FIRST WITCH

SECOND WITCH

THIRD WITCH

HECATE

FIRST APPARITION

SECOND APPARITION

THIRD APPARITION

Not Pictured

MENTEITH, thane and nobleman of Scotland

CAITHNESS, thane and nobleman of Scotland

SEYTON, an officer attending Macbeth

Another LORD

CAPTAIN serving Duncan

OLD MAN

SERVANT to Macbeth

SERVANT to Lady Macbeth

Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, and Attendants

ACT I. Scene I (1–12).

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.

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, Grimalkin!

SECOND WITCH

Paddock calls.

THIRD WITCH

Anon.

ALL

Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

ACT I. Scene II (1–70).

DUNCAN

What bloody man is that? He can report,

As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.

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.

SERGEANT

Doubtful it stood;

SERGEANT (cont.)

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

Do swarm upon him—from the Western Isles

Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;

And Fortune, on his damnèd quarrel smiling,

Showed like a rebel’s whore. But all’s too weak:

SERGEANT (cont.)

For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—

Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished 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,

Till he unseamed him from the nave to th’ chops,

And fixed 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,

So from that spring whence comfort seemed to come

Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark.

No sooner justice had, with valour armed,

Compelled these skipping kerns to trust their heels,

But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,

With furbished arms and new supplies of men

Began a fresh assault.

DUNCAN

Dismayed not this our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

SERGEANT

Yes, 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

Or memorise another Golgotha,

I cannot tell.

SERGEANT (cont.)

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.

DUNCAN (cont.)

Who comes here?

MALCOLM

The worthy Thane of Ross.

LENNOX

What a haste looks through his eyes!

So should he look that seems to speak things strange.

ROSS

God save the king!

DUNCAN

Whence cam’st thou, worthy thane?

ROSS

From Fife, great King,

Where the Norweyan 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 Bellona’s bridegroom, 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 on us.

DUNCAN

Great happiness!

ROSS

That now

Sweno, the Norways’ king, craves composition;

Nor would we deign him burial of his men

Till he disbursèd at Saint Colme’s Inch

Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

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 hath won.

ACT I. Scene III (30–149).

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,

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! The charm’s wound up.

MACBETH

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

BANQUO

How far is’t called to Forres?—What are these,

So withered and so wild in their attire,

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,

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 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

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

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

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:

So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

FIRST WITCH

Banquo and Macbeth, all hail

MACBETH

Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more!

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

You owe this strange intelligence, or why

Upon this blasted heath you stop our way

With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

BANQUO

The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,

And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?

MACBETH

Into the air; and what seemed corporal melted,

As breath into the wind. Would they had stayed!

BANQUO

Were such things here as we do speak about?

Or have we eaten on the insane root

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 th’ selfsame tune and words—

BANQUO (cont.)

Who’s here?

ROSS

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. Silenced with that,

In viewing o’er the rest o’th’ selfsame day

He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,

Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,

Strange images of death. As thick as tale

Came post with post; and every one did bear

Thy praises in his kingdom’s great defence,

And poured them down before him.

ANGUS

We are sent

To give thee from our royal master thanks,

Only to herald thee into his sight,

Not pay thee.

ROSS

And, for an earnest of a greater honour,

He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor;

In which addition, hail, most worthy thane,

For it is thine.

BANQUO

What, can the devil speak true?

MACBETH

The Thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me

In borrowed robes?

ANGUS

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 laboured in his country’s wrack, I know not;

But treasons capital, confessed and proved,

Have overthrown him.

MACBETH

Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!

The greatest is behind.

MACBETH (cont.)

Thanks for your pains.

MACBETH (cont.)

Do you not hope your children shall be kings,

When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me

Promised no less to them?

BANQUO

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 ’s

In deepest consequence.—

Cousins, a word, I pray you.

MACBETH

Two truths are told,

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.

MACBETH (cont.)

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.

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.

BANQUO

Look how our partner’s rapt.

MACBETH

If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,

Without my stir.

BANQUO

New honors come upon him,

Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould

But with the aid of use.

MACBETH

Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

ACT I. Scene V (1–73).

Shortly after the witches foretell Macbeth and Banquo’s royal prophecies, the pair meets up with King Duncan, who praises their loyalty and bravery. The traitorous Thane of Cawdor has been executed, and as promised by the witches, Macbeth will take his place. King Duncan jovially tells the men that his son, Malcolm, will be Prince of Cumberland, and therefore next in line to the throne. As King Duncan makes short-notice plans to visit Macbeth’s castle at Inverness in celebration, Macbeth is struck by this new obstruction—Malcolm—in his seemingly straight line to the crown. In response to this unforeseen difficulty, Macbeth whispers to himself, “Stars, hide your fires;/Let not light see my black and deep desires./The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be/Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see” (I.iv.50–53). The first of many dark thoughts stir in Macbeth’s head as he realizes that he must wear the mask of devotion to the King, tricking even himself, while secretly plotting to usurp the throne at any cost. With this dark seed sprouting, Macbeth goes ahead of the group to notify Lady Macbeth and his servants that King Duncan will be coming to his castle at Inverness shortly.

LADY MACBETH

“They met me in the day of success:

and I have learned by the perfect’st report

they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I

burnt 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 re-

ferred 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.”

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be

What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;

It is too full o’th’ 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. Thou’dst have, great Glamis,

That which cries “Thus thou must do,” if thou have it;

And that which rather thou dost fear to do

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear

And chastise with the valour of my tongue

All that impedes thee from the golden round

Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

To have thee crowned withal.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

What is your tidings?

Messenger

The King comes here tonight.

LADY MACBETH

Thou’rt mad to say it!

Is not thy master with him, who, were’t so,

Would have informed for preparation?

MESSENGER

So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming.

One of my fellows had the speed of him,

Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more

Than would make up his message.

LADY MACBETH

Give him tending;

He brings great news.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

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 top-full

Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood;

Stop up th’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 murd’ring 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!”

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

Great Glamis! 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.

MACBETH

My dearest love,

Duncan comes here tonight.

LADY MACBETH

And when goes hence?

MACBETH

Tomorrow, as he purposes.

LADY MACBETH

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’t. He that’s coming

Must be provided for; 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.

MACBETH

We will speak further.

LADY MACBETH

Only look up clear.

To alter favour ever is to fear:

Leave all the rest to me.

ACT I. Scene VII (1–83).

King Duncan and his entourage arrive at Macbeth’s castle, and all are greeted by a saccharine Lady Macbeth. Duncan buoyantly praises Lady Macbeth for receiving them on such short notice, and Lady Macbeth responds in kind, despite the wheels of treachery that are already turning in her head. They all prepare for a celebration as the hosts of the party begin to plot the demise of the throne.

MACBETH

If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well

It were done quickly. If th’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, upon this bank and shoal of time,

We’d jump the life to come. But in these cases

We still have judgment here, that we but teach

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return

To plague th’inventor. This evenhanded justice

Commends th’ingredients of our poisoned chalice

To our own lips. He’s here in double trust:

MACBETH (cont.)

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 cherubin, horsed

Upon the sightless couriers of the air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur

To prick the sides of my intent, but only

Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself

And falls on th’other.

MACBETH (cont.)

How now, what news?

LADY MACBETH

He has almost supped.

Why have you left the chamber?

MACBETH

Hath he asked for me?

LADY MACBETH

Know you not he has?

MACBETH

We will proceed no further in this business.

He hath honoured 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.

LADY MACBETH

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 valour

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 i’th’ adage?

MACBETH

Prithee, peace:

I dare do all that may become a man;

Who dares do more is none.

LADY MACBETH

What beast was’t, then,

That 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. Nor time nor place

Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.

They have made themselves, and that their fitness now

Does unmake you. 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.

MACBETH

If we should fail?

LADY MACBETH

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—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 drenchèd natures lies as in a death,

What cannot you and I perform upon

Th’unguarded Duncan? What not put upon

His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt

Of our great quell?

MACBETH

Bring forth men-children only!

For thy undaunted mettle should compose

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?

LADY MACBETH

Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar

Upon his death?

MACBETH

I am settled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

ACT II. Scene I (34–65).

Late that evening, Banquo and his son Fleance are walking the halls of Macbeth’s castle and bump into the toiling Macbeth. Banquo describes how happy King Duncan was throughout the evening, having given out many gifts to Macbeth’s household for their hospitality. Banquo gives Macbeth a large diamond, which is a gift from the King to Lady Macbeth for being such a welcoming hostess. Banquo then mentions a dream he had about the three witches’ prophecies and tries to discuss it with Macbeth, who waves him off and tells him they can talk another time. Banquo and his son head to bed, and Macbeth continues to wander the corridors, still preoccupied with his plans for murder.

MACBETH

Is this a dagger which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.

MACBETH (cont.)

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but

A dagger of the mind, a false creation,

Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain?

MACBETH (cont.)

I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshall’st me the way that I was going,

And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o’th’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. There’s no such thing.

It is the bloody business which informs

Thus to mine eyes. Now o’er the one half world

Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse

The curtained sleep.

MACBETH (cont.)

Witchcraft celebrates

Pale Hecate’s offerings, and withered Murder,

Alarumed by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl’s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,

With Tarquin’s ravishing strides, towards his design

Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,

MACBETH (cont.)

Hear not my steps which way they walk, for fear

Thy very stones prate of my whereabout

And take the present horror from the time

Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;

Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

MACBETH (cont.)

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.

ACT II. Scene II (1–78).

LADY MACBETH

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;

What hath quenched them hath given me fire.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

Hark! Peace!

It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman,

Which gives the stern’st good-night. He is about it.

The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms

Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugged their possets,

That death and nature do contend about them,

Whether they live or die.

MACBETH

[Within] Who’s there? What, ho!

LADY MACBETH

Alack, I am afraid they have awaked,

And ’tis not done. Th’attempt and not the deed

Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready;

He could not miss ’em. Had he not resembled

My father as he slept, I had done’t.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

My husband!

MACBETH

I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?

LADY MACBETH

I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.

Did not you speak?

MACBETH

When?

LADY MACBETH

Now.

MACBETH

As I descended?

LADY MACBETH

Ay.

MACBETH

Hark!

Who lies i’th’ second chamber?

LADY MACBETH

Donalbain.

MACBETH

This is a sorry sight.

LADY MACBETH

A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

MACBETH

There’s one did laugh in ’s 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.

LADY MACBETH

There are two lodged together.

MACBETH

One cried “God bless us!” and “Amen” the other,

As they had seen me with these hangman’s hands.

List’ning their fear, I could not say “Amen,”

When they did say “God bless us!”

LADY MACBETH

Consider it not so deeply.

MACBETH

But wherefore could not I pronounce “Amen”?

I had most need of blessing, and “Amen”

Stuck in my throat.

LADY MACBETH

These deeds must not be thought

After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

MACBETH

Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!

Macbeth does murder sleep,” the innocent sleep,

Sleep that knits up the raveled sleeve of care,

The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath,

Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,

Chief nourisher in life’s feast—

LADY MACBETH

What do you mean?

MACBETH

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.”

LADY MACBETH

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.

MACBETH

I’ll go no more:

I am afraid to think what I have done;

Look on’t again I dare not.

LADY MACBETH

Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead

Are but as pictures. ’Tis the eye of childhood

That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,

I’ll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

For it must seem their guilt.

MACBETH

Whence is that knocking?

How is’t 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 in incarnadine,

Making the green one red.

LADY MACBETH

My hands are of your colour; but I shame

To wear a heart so white.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

I hear a knocking

At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber;

A little water clears us of this deed.

How easy is it, then! Your constancy

Hath left you unattended.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

Hark! More knocking.

Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us

And show us to be watchers. Be not lost

So poorly in your thoughts.

MACBETH

To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!

ACT II. Scene III (41–148).

It is the early morning and the knocking that startled Macbeth and Lady Macbeth amidst their violent crime continues. The castle’s porter attends to the knocking, though not without a drunken monologue likening himself to the gatekeeper of Hell. His slurred speech is not so far from the truth, though no one knows what has occurred in the castle just yet. The porter lets in Macduff and Lennox, who are there to wake King Duncan for the day ahead. Macbeth joins the chatting group, feigning that he was awoken by the loud knocking,which will be his first of many lies about the coming discovery of King Duncan’s death.

MACDUFF

Is thy master stirring?

Our knocking has awaked him. Here he comes.

LENNOX

Good morrow, noble sir.

MACBETH

Good morrow, both.

MACDUFF

Is the King stirring, worthy thane?

MACBETH

Not yet.

MACDUFF

He did command me to call timely on him.

I have almost slipped the hour.

MACBETH

I’ll bring you to him.

MACDUFF

I know this is a joyful trouble to you,

But yet ’tis one.

MACBETH

The labour we delight in physics pain.

This is the door.

MACDUFF

I’ll make so bold to call,

For ’tis my limited service.

LENNOX

Goes the King hence today?

MACBETH

He does; he did appoint so.

LENNOX

The night has been unruly. Where we lay,

Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say,

Lamentings heard i’th’air, strange screams of death,

And prophesying with accents terrible

Of dire combustion and confused events

New hatched to the woeful time. The obscure bird

Clamoured the livelong night. Some say the earth

Was feverous and did shake.

MACBETH

’Twas a rough night.

LENNOX

My young remembrance cannot parallel

A fellow to it.

MACDUFF

O horror, horror, horror!

Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!

MACBETH and LENNOX

What’s the matter?

MACDUFF

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!

Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope

The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole thence

The life o’th’ building!

MACBETH

What is’t you say? The life?

LENNOX

Mean you His Majesty?

MACDUFF

Approach the chamber and destroy your sight

With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak;

See, and then speak yourselves.

MACDUFF (cont.)

Awake, awake!

Ring the alarum bell. Murder and treason!

Banquo and Donalbain, Malcolm, awake!

Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit,

And look on death itself! Up, up, and see

The great doom’s image! Malcolm, Banquo,

As from your graves rise up and walk like sprites

To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.

LADY MACBETH

What’s the business,

That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley

The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!

MACDUFF

O, gentle lady,

’Tis not for you to hear what I can speak.

The repetition in a woman’s ear

Would murder as it fell.

MACDUFF (cont.)

O Banquo, Banquo,

Our royal master’s murdered!

LADY MACBETH

Woe, alas!

What, in our house?

BANQUO

Too cruel anywhere.

Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself

And say it is not so.

MACBETH

Had I but died an hour before this chance

I had lived a blessèd time; for from this instant

There’s nothing serious in mortality.

All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees

Is left this vault to brag of.

DONALBAIN

What is amiss?

MACBETH

You are, and do not know’t.

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood

Is stopped, the very source of it is stopped.

MACDUFF

Your royal father’s murdered.

MALCOLM

O, by whom?

LENNOX

Those of his chamber, as it seemed, had done’t.

Their hands and faces were all badged with blood;

So were their daggers, which unwiped we found

Upon their pillows. They stared, and were distracted;

No man’s life was to be trusted with them.

MACBETH

O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

That I did kill them.

MACDUFF

Wherefore did you so?

MACBETH

Who can be wise, amazed, temp’rate and furious,

Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man.

MACBETH (cont.)

Th’expedition my violent love

Outrun 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 colours 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 ’s love known?

LADY MACBETH

Help me hence, ho!

MACDUFF

Look to the lady.

MALCOLM

Why do we hold our tongues,

That most may claim this argument for ours?

DONALBAIN

What should be spoken here, where our fate,

Hid in an auger-hole, may rush and seize us?

Let’s away. Our tears are not yet brewed.

MALCOLM

Nor our strong sorrow upon the foot of motion.

BANQUO

Look to the lady:

BANQUO (cont.)

And when we have our naked frailties hid,

That suffer in exposure, let us meet

And question this most bloody piece of work

To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us.

In the great hand of God I stand, and thence

Against the undivulged pretence I fight

Of treasonous malice.

MACDUFF

And so do I.

ALL

So all.

MACBETH

Let’s briefly put on manly readiness,

And meet i’th’ hall together.

ALL

Well contented.

MALCOLM

What will you do? Let’s not consort with them.

To show an unfelt sorrow is an office

Which the false man does easy. I’ll to England.

DONALBAIN

To Ireland, I; our separated fortune

Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are,

There’s daggers in men’s smiles; the nea’er 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,

But shift away. There’s warrant in that theft

Which steals itself when there’s no mercy left.

ACT III. Scene I (1–143).

In the early wake of King Duncan’s violent murder, an old man, Ross, and Macduff discuss the horror of the crime and what it means for Scotland. Macbeth has led them to believe that the guards in King Duncan’s chamber were responsible for his death, and that he killed them in a seemingly loyal fit of rage for having supposedly murdered his beloved King. He has also planted the idea that King Duncan’s sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, paid the two guards to kill their father, and that their subsequent flight is indicative of their guilt. In this discussion, it is revealed that Macbeth will go to Scone to be crowned as King, while the body of King Duncan will goto Colmekill to be buried in his family tomb. The witches’ initial prophecy is now fulfilled.

BANQUO

Thou hast it now—King, Cawdor, Glamis, all

As the weird women promised, and I fear

Thou played’st most foully for’t. 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

Here’s our chief guest.

LADY MACBETH

If he had been forgotten,

It had been as a gap in our great feast

And all-thing unbecoming.

MACBETH

Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir,

And I’ll request your presence.

BANQUO

Let Your Highness

Command upon me, to the which my duties

Are with a most indissoluble tie

Forever knit.

MACBETH

Ride you this afternoon?

BANQUO

Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH

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’t far you ride?

BANQUO

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.

MACBETH

Fail not our feast.

BANQUO

My lord, I will not.

MACBETH

We hear our bloody cousins are bestowed

In England and in Ireland, not confessing

Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers

With strange invention. 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?

BANQUO

Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon ’s.

MACBETH

I wish your horses swift and sure of foot,

And so I do commend you to their backs.

Farewell.

MACBETH (cont.)

Let every man be master of his time

Till seven at night. To make society

The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself

Till supper-time alone. While then, God be with you!

MACBETH (cont.)

Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men

Our pleasure?

ATTENDANT

They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

MACBETH

Bring them before us.

MACBETH (cont.)

To be thus is nothing;

But to be safely thus.—Our fears in Banquo

Stick deep, 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 doth guide his valour

To act in safety. There is none but he

Whose being I do fear; and under him

My genius is rebuked, as it is said

Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the sisters

When first they put the name of king upon me,

And bade them speak to him. Then, prophetlike,

They hailed him father to a line of kings.

Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown

And put a barren sceptre in my grip,

Thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand,

No son of mine succeeding. If’t be so,

MACBETH (cont.)

For Banquo’s issue have I filed my mind;

For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered,

Put rancours in the vessel 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.

Rather than so, come fate into the list,

And champion me to th’utterance!—

MACBETH (cont.)

Who’s there?

Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

MACBETH (cont.)

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

FIRST MURDERER

It was, so please Your Highness.

MACBETH

Well then, now

Have you considered of my speeches? Know

That it was he 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.”

FIRST MURDERER

You made it known to us.

MACBETH

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?

First Murderer

We are men, my liege.

MACBETH

Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men,

As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,

Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept

All by the name of dogs. The valued file

Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,

The housekeeper, the hunter, every one

According to the gift which bounteous nature

Hath in him closed, whereby he does receive

Particular addition from the bill

That writes them all alike; and so of men.

Now, if you have a station in the file,

Not i’th’ worst rank of manhood, say’t;

And I will put that business in your bosoms

Whose execution takes your enemy off,

Grapples you to the heart and love of us,

Who wear our health but sickly in his life,

Which in his death were perfect.

SECOND MURDERER

I am one, my liege,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world

Have so incensed that I am reckless what

I do to spite the world.

FIRST MURDERER

And I another

So weary with disasters, tugged with fortune,

That I would set my lie on any chance

To mend it or be rid on’t.

MACBETH

Both of you

Know Banquo was your enemy.

BOTH MURDERERS

True, my lord.

MACBETH

So is he mine, and in such bloody distance

That every minute of his being thrusts

Against my near’st of life. And though I could

With barefaced power sweep him from my sight

And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,

For certain friends that are both his and mine,

Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall

Who I myself struck down. And thence it is

That I to your assistance do make love,

Masking the business from the common eye

For sundry weighty reasons.

SECOND MURDERER

We shall, my lord,

Perform what you command us.

FIRST MURDERER

Though our lives—

MACBETH

Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most

I will advise you where to plant yourselves,

Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’th’ time,

The moment on’t, for’t 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, that keeps him company,

Whose absence is no less material to me

Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate

Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart;

I’ll come to you anon.

BOTH MURDERERS

We are resolved, my lord.

MACBETH

I’ll call upon you straight. Abide within.

MACBETH (cont.)

It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight,

If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.

ACT III. Scene III (1–28).

After Macbeth plots to have Banquo killed, he and Lady Macbeth react quietly with one another to the results of their crime. Likening King Duncan’s throne to a snake, Macbeth comments to his wife that they have “scorched the snake, not killed it./She’ll close and be herself” (III.ii.15–16). In other words, though they have killed King Duncan, their plan was shortsighted and they are still vulnerable. Macbeth hints of his plans to kill Banquo but refuses to shed any more light on the plan, so that Lady Macbeth can applaud him when it is done.

FIRST MURDERER

But who did bid thee join with us?

THIRD MURDERER

Macbeth.

SECOND MURDERER

He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers

Our offices and what we have to do

To the direction just.

FIRST MURDERER

Then stand with us.

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:

Now spurs the lated traveler apace

To gain the timely inn, and near approaches

The subject of our watch.

THIRD MURDERER

Hark, I hear horses.

BANQUO

[Within] Give us a light there, ho!

SECOND MURDERER

Then ’tis he. The rest

That are within the note of expectation

Already are i’th’ court.

FIRST MURDERER

His horses go about.

THIRD MURDERER

Almost a mile; but he does usually—

So all men do—from hence to th’ palace gate

Make it their walk.

SECOND MURDERER

A light, a light!

THIRD MURDERER

’Tis he.

FIRST MURDERER

Stand to’t.

BANQUO

It will be rain tonight.

FIRST MURDERER

Let it come down!

BANQUO

O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!

Thou mayst revenge. O slave!

THIRD MURDERER

Who did strike out the light?

FIRST MURDERER

Was’t not the way?

THIRD MURDERER

There’s but one down; the son is fled.

SECOND MURDERER

We have lost best half of our affair.

FIRST MURDERER

Well, let’s away and say how much is done.

ACT III. Scene IV (40–145).

The First Murderer shares the news with Macbeth that they have successfully killed Banquo, but that his son, Fleance, has fled. Macbeth thanks the murderer for killing Banquo but expresses concern that Fleance lives. While Fleance is young and harmless now, he is sure to grow up with vengeance for his father’s death heavy on his mind. For the time being, Macbeth decides to put his anxieties aside and proceed to the party he is hosting.

MACBETH

Here had we now our country’s honour roofed

Were the graced person of our Banquo present,

Who may I rather challenge for unkindness

Than pity for mischance.

ROSS

His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please’t Your Highness

To grace us with your royal company?

MACBETH

The table’s full.

LENNOX

Here is a place reserved, sir.

MACBETH

Where?

LENNOX

Here, my good lord. What is’t that moves

Your Highness?

MACBETH

Which of you have done this?

LORDS

What, my good lord?

MACBETH

Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake

Thy gory locks at me.

ROSS

Gentlemen, rise. His Highness is not well.

LADY MACBETH

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. If much you note him

You shall offend him and extend his passion.

Feed, and regard him not.

LADY MACBETH (cont.)

Are you a man?

MACBETH

Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that

Which might appall the devil.

LADY MACBETH

O, proper stuff.

This is the very painting of your fear:

This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,

Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,

Impostors to true fear, would well become

A woman’s story at a winter’s fire,

Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!

Why do you make such faces? When all’s done,

You look but on a stool.

MACBETH

Prithee, see there!

Behold! look! Lo, how say you?—

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.

If charnel houses and our graves must send

Those that we bury back, our monuments

Shall be the maws of kites.

LADY MACBETH

What, quite unmanned in folly?

MACBETH

If I stand here, I saw him.

LADY MACBETH

Fie, for shame!

MACBETH

Blood hath been shed ere now, i’th’olden time,

Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal;

Ay, and since too, murders have been performed

Too terrible for the ear. 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 from our stools. This is more strange

Than such a murder is.

LADY MACBETH

My worthy lord,

Your noble friends do lack you.

MACBETH

I do forget.

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to all!

Then I’ll sit down. Give me some wine. Fill full.

MACBETH (cont.)

I drink to th’ general joy o’th’ whole table,

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss.

Would he were here! To all, and him, we thirst,

And all to all.

LORDS

Our duties and the pledge.

MACBETH

Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes

Which thou dost glare with!

LADY MACBETH

Think of this, good peers,

But as a thing of custom. ’Tis no other;

Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

MACBETH

What man dare, I dare.

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,

The armed rhinoceros, or th’ Hyrcan tiger;

Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves

Shall never tremble. Or be alive again,

And dare me to the desert with thy sword.

If trembling I inhabit then, protest me

The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!

Unreal mockery, hence!

MACBETH (cont.)

Why, so; being gone,

I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.

LADY MACBETH

You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting

With most admired disorder.

MACBETH

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 is blanched with fear.

ROSS

What sights, my lord?

LADY MACBETH

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.

LENNOX

Good night, and better health

Attend His Majesty!

LADY MACBETH

A kind good night to all!

MACBETH

It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.

Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;

Augurs and understood relations have

By maggotpies and choughs and rooks brought forth

The secret’st man of blood. What is the night?

LADY MACBETH

Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

MACBETH

How say’st thou, that Macduff denies his person

At our great bidding?

LADY MACBETH

Did you send to him, sir?

MACBETH

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 fee’d. I will tomorrow—

And betimes I will—to the Weird Sisters.

More shall they speak, for now I am bent to know

By the worst means the worst. For mine own good

All causes shall give way. I am in blood

Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more,

Returning were as tedious as go o’er.

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,

Which must be acted ere they may be scanned.

LADY MACBETH

You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

MACBETH

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.

ACT IV. Scene I (1–156).

The three witches assemble on a heath with Hecate, the Goddess of Witchcraft. Hecate scolds the Weird Sisters for having enlightened Macbeth to his prophecy, especially because his use of the knowledge has been destructive and self-serving. Hecate decides that they should appear to Macbeth in the coming day and provide him with an even greater spectacle of his fate, complete with a bubbling cauldron and magical illusions to further draw him in. Hecate hopes to elicit Macbeth’s hubris, allowing the witches’ prophecies to steer his dark sail to its own demise.

In the subsequent scene, Lennox and another Lord discuss the recent murders, and it becomes clear that they see through Macbeth’s guise of benevolence and loyalty to the prior throne. They reveal that King Edward of England has allowed King Duncan’s sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, to take refuge with him. Macduff has also gone to King Edward for assistance, but rather than refuge, he seeks to form an alliance and prepare a battle to free Scotland of Macbeth and his terrible reign.

FIRST WITCH

Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.

SECOND WITCH

Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whined.

THIRD WITCH

Harpier cries, “’Tis time, ’tis time!”

FIRST WITCH

Round about the cauldron go;

In the poisoned entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights has thirty-one

Sweltered venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i’th’ charmed pot.

ALL

Double, double, toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

SECOND WITCH

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder’s fork and blindworm’s sting,

Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL

Double, double, toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

THIRD WITCH

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf

Of the ravined salt-sea shark,

Root of hemlock digged i’th’ dark,

Liver of blaspheming Jew,

Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Silvered in the moon’s eclipse,

Nose of Turk and Tartar’s lips,

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-delivered by a drab,

Make the gruel thick and slab.

Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron

For th’ingredience of our cauldron.

ALL

Double, double, toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

SECOND WITCH

Cool it with a baboon’s blood,

Then the charm is firm and good.

HECATE

O, well done! I commend your pains,

And every one shall share i’th’ gains.

And now about the cauldron sing

Live elves and fairies in a ring,

Enchanting all that you put in.

SECOND WITCH

By the pricking of my thumbs,

Something wicked this way comes.

Open, locks,

Whoever knocks!

MACBETH

How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!

What is’t you do?

ALL

A deed without a name.

MACBETH

I conjure you, by that which you profess,

Howe’er you come to know it, answer me.

Though you untie the winds and let them fight

Against the churches, though the yeasty waves

Confound and swallow navigation up,

Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down,

Though castles topple on their warders’ heads,

Though palaces and pyramids do slope

Their heads to their foundations, though the treasure

Of nature’s germens tumble all together

Even till destruction sicken, answer me

To what I ask you.

FIRST WITCH

Speak.

SECOND WITCH

Demand.

THIRD WITCH

We’ll answer.

FIRST WITCH

Say, if thou’dst rather hear it from our mouths

Or from our masters?

MACBETH

Call ’em. Let me see ’em.

FIRST WITCH

Pour in sow’s blood, that hath eaten

Her nine farrow; grease that’s sweaten

From the murderer’s gibbet throw

Into the flame.

ALL

Come high or low;

Thyself and office deftly show!

MACBETH

Tell me, thou unknown power—

FIRST WITCH

He knows thy thought.

Hear his speech, but say thou naught.

FIRST APPARITION

Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff,

Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.

MACBETH

Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;

Thou hast harped my fear aright. But one word more—

FIRST WITCH

He will not be commanded. Here’s another,

More potent than the first.

SECOND APPARITION

Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

MACBETH

Had I three ears, I’d hear thee.

SECOND APPARITION

Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn

The power of man, for none of woman born

Shall harm Macbeth.

MACBETH

Then live, Macduff; what need I fear of thee?

But yet I’ll make assurance double sure,

And take a bond of fate. Thou shalt not live;

That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,

And sleep in spite of thunder.

MACBETH (cont.)

What is this

That rises like the issue of a king

And wears upon his baby brow the round

And top of sovereignty?

ALL

Listen, but speak not to’t.

THIRD APPARITION

Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care

Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.

Macbeth shall never vanquished be until

Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill

Shall come against him.

MACBETH

That will never be.

Who can impress the forest, bid the tree

Unfix his earthbound root? Sweet bodements, good!

Rebellious dead, rise never till the wood

Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth

Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath

To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart

Throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if your art

Can tell so much: shall Banquo’s issue ever

Reign in this kingdom?

ALL

Seek to know no more.

MACBETH

I will be satisfied. Deny me this,

And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.

Why sinks that cauldron? And what noise is this?

FIRST WITCH

Show!

SECOND WITCH

Show!

THIRD WITCH

Show!

ALL

Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;

Come like shadows, so depart!

MACBETH

Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo. Down!

Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. And thy hair,

Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.

A third is like the former. Filthy hags,

Why do you show me this? A fourth? Start, eyes!

What, will the line stretch out to th’ crack of doom?

Another yet? A seventh? I’ll see no more.

And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass

Which shows me many more; and some I see

That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry.

Horrible sight! Now, I see, ’tis true,

For the blood-boltered Banquo smiles upon me

And points at them for his.

MACBETH (cont.)

What, is this so?

FIRST WITCH

Ay, sir, all this is so. But why

Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?

Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,

And show the best of our delights.

I’ll charm the air to give a sound,

While you perform your antic round,

That this great king may kindly say,

Our duties did his welcome pay.

MACBETH

Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour

Stand aye accursèd in the calendar!

Come in, without there!

LENNOX

What’s Your Grace’s will?

MACBETH

Saw you the Weird Sisters?

LENNOX

No, my lord.

MACBETH

Came they not by you?

LENNOX

No, indeed, my lord.

MACBETH

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?

LENNOX

’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word

Macduff is fled to England.

MACBETH

Fled to England!

LENNOX

Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH

Time, thou anticipat’st my dread exploits.

The flighty purpose never is o’ertook

Unless the deed go with it. From this moment

The very 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 th’edge o’th’ 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 this purpose cool.

But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?

Come, bring me where they are.

ACT IV. Scene II (66–86).

Over at Macduff’s castle, Ross and Lady Macduff lament the absence of Macduff, who has fled to England for assistance. His abrupt journey casts an air of suspicion over him, making him look traitorous to his family and his country. Ross implores Lady Macduff to see the good in the situation and leaves before he can become too emotional. Lady Macduff is left to field the many questions her young son has for her about his father’s absence, what they will do without him, and what it means if he is in fact a traitor. They make jokes with one another to quell their growing anxiety, and it is at this point that they are interrupted by a messenger.

MESSENGER

Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,

Though in your state of honour I am perfect.

I doubt some danger does approach you nearly.

If you will take a homely man’s advice,

Be not found here. Hence, with your little ones.

To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;

To do worse to you were fell cruelty,

Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!

I dare abide no longer.

LADY MACDUFF

Whither should I fly?

I have done no harm. But I remember now

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 defence

To say I have done no harm?

LADY MACDUFF (cont.)

What are these faces?

FIRST MURDERER

Where is your husband?

LADY MACDUFF

I hope in no place so unsanctified

Where such as thou mayst find him.

FIRST MURDERER

He’s a traitor.

SON

Thou liest, thou shag-haired villain!

FIRST MURDERER

What, you egg?

FIRST MURDERER (cont.)

Young fry of treachery!

SON

He has killed me, mother.

Run away, I pray you!

ACT V. Scene I (1–80).

Malcolm and Macduff are in distress over the state of Scotland and Macbeth’s ever-worsening reign of slaughter. Macduff tries to encourage Malcolm to take his rightful seat on the throne, but as he does so, Malcolm tests Macduff’s motives by divulging heinous vices that could be worsened by kingly power. Macduff recoils in horror, rebuking Malcolm and saying that he must have been mistaken for thinking he should be the one to overthrow Macbeth. Malcolm is relieved by this reaction and assures Macduff that he is in fact virtuous and has the best interest of Scotland and its people in mind.

Ross joins the conversation and the three despair over the terrible crimes being committed under Macbeth’s rule. Alarmed, Macduff asks Ross if his family is okay, and Ross tries to appease him by saying that all are well in the Macduff castle. After some prodding, Ross reveals that Macduff’s entire family and household have been viciously murdered by Macbeth’s men. Overcome by the mayhem he has caused, the men resolve to bring the fight to Macbeth.

DOCTOR

I have two nights watched with you, but can

perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last

walked?

GENTLEWOMAN

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’t, read it, afterwards seal it, and again

return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

DOCTOR

A great perturbation in nature, to receive at

once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of

watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her

walking and other actual performances, what, at any

time, have you heard her say?

GENTLEWOMAN

That, sir, which I will not report after her.

DOCTOR

You may to me, and ’tis most meet you should.

GENTLEWOMAN

Neither to you nor any one; having no

witness to confirm my speech.

GENTLEWOMAN (cont.)

Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise, and,

upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her. Stand close.

DOCTOR

How came she by that light?

GENTLEWOMAN

Why, it stood by her. She has light by

her continually. ’Tis her command.

DOCTOR

You see her eyes are open.

GENTLEWOMAN

Ay, but their sense are shut.

DOCTOR

What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs

her hands.

GENTLEWOMAN

It is an accustomed action with her to

seem thus washing her hands. I have known her

continue in this a quarter of an hour.

LADY MACBETH

Yet here’s a spot.

DOCTOR

Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes

from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more

strongly.

LADY MACBETH

Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One—

Two—why then, ’tis time to do’t. 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?

DOCTOR

Do you mark that?

LADY MACBETH

The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is

she now?—What, will these hands ne’er be

clean?—No more o’that, my lord, no more o’that;

you mar all with this starting.

DOCTOR

Go to, go to. You have known what you

should not.

GENTLEWOMAN

She has spoke what she should not, I

am sure of that. Heaven knows what she has known!

LADY MACBETH

Here’s the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes

of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.

Oh, oh, oh!

DOCTOR

What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

GENTLEWOMAN

I would not have such a heart in my

bosom for the dignity of the whole body.

DOCTOR

Well, well, well.

GENTLEWOMAN

Pray God it be, sir.

DOCTOR

This disease is beyond my practice. Yet I have

known those which have walked in their sleep who

have died holily in their beds.

LADY MACBETH

Wash your hands, put on your night-

gown; look not so pale! I tell you yet again,

Banquo’s buried. He cannot come out on ’s grave.

DOCTOR

Even so?

LADY MACBETH

To bed, to bed! There’s knocking at the

Gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand.

What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed!

DOCTOR

Will she go now to bed?

GENTLEWOMAN

Directly.

DOCTOR

Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles. Infected minds

To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.

More needs she the divine than the physician.

God, God forgive us all! Look after her;

Remove from her the means of all annoyance,

And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night.

My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.

I think, but dare not speak.

GENTLEWOMAN

Good night, good doctor.

ACT V. Scene VI (1–10).

With the coming help of the English, the leaders of the Scottish forces begin the march toward Dunsinane Hill to overthrow Macbeth. They profess their allegiance to the rightful heir to the throne, Malcolm, and wonder about Macbeth’s violent psychosis. They lead the march to Birnam Wood.

Meanwhile, at Dunsinane, Macbeth is learning that Scottish thanes are abandoning him in loyalty to Malcolm. Despite this, Macbeth is confident that he will not be overthrown, because the witches’ prophecy said that such could only happen if Birnam Wood were to move from its current location to the palace, which of course is impossible. More than ten thousand English soldiers assemble outside in preparation for a fight.

Out at Birnam Wood, Malcolm, Siward, and their men plot their approach to the castle. Malcolm decides to camouflage the soldiers by having them carry branches from the forest, which will confuse Macbeth and his men as to how many men they are up against.

Up at Dunsinane, Macbeth is given two reports of bad news. Lady Macbeth has died from her paranoid insanity, and the forest has seemingly moved to the foot of the palace. Macbeth waves off his wife’s death and becomes horrorstruck and angry at the news that Birnam Wood has shifted locations. The ostensibly impossible prophecy that Macbeth should only worry if the forest moves has come true.

MALCOLM

Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down,

And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,

Shall with my cousin, your right noble son,

Lead our first battle. Worthy Macduff and we

Shall take upon ’s what else remains to do,

According to our order.

SIWARD

Fare you well.

Do we but find the tyrant’s power tonight,

Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

MACDUFF

Make all our trumpets speak! Give them all breath,

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death!

ACT V. Scene VII (1–30).

MACBETH

They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly,

But bearlike I must fight the course. What’s he

That was not born of woman? Such a one

Am I to fear, or none.

YOUNG SIWARD

What is thy name?

MACBETH

Thou’lt be afraid to hear it.

YOUNG SIWARD

No, though thou call’st thyself a hotter name

Than any is in hell.

MACBETH

My name’s Macbeth.

YOUNG SIWARD

The devil himself could not pronounce a title

More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH

No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SIWARD

Thou liest, abhorrèd tyrant. With my sword

I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.

MACBETH

Thou wast born of woman

But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,

Brandished by man that’s of a woman born.

MACDUFF

That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!

If thou be’st slain, and with no stroke of mine,

My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still.

I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms

Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth,

Or else my sword with an unbattered edge

I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;

By this great clatter one of greatest note

Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune!

And more I beg not.

SIWARD

This way, my lord. The castle’s gently rendered:

The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight,

The noble thanes do bravely in the war,

The day almost itself professes yours,

And little is to do.

MALCOLM

We have met with foes

That strike beside us.

SIWARD

Enter, sir, the castle.

ACT V. Scene VIII (1–76).

MACBETH

Why should I play the Roman fool, and die

On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes

Do better upon them.

MACDUFF

Turn, hellhound, turn!

MACBETH

Of all men else I have avoided thee.

But get thee back. My soul is too much charged

With blood of thine already.

MACDUFF

I have no words;

My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain

Than terms can give thee out!

MACBETH

Thou losest labour.

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air

With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed.

Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;

I bear a charmèd life, which must not yield,

To one of woman born.

MACDUFF

Despair thy charm,

And let the angel whom thou still hast served

Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb

Untimely ripped.

MACBETH

Accursèd be that tongue that tells me so,

For it hath cowed my better part of man!

And be these juggling fiends no more believed

That palter with us in a double sense,

That keep the word of promise to our ear

And break it to our hope. I’ll not fight with thee.

MACDUFF

Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o’th’ time!

We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,

Painted on a pole, and underwrit,

“Here may you see the tyrant.”

MACBETH

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 of no woman born,

Yet I will try the last. Before my body

I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,

And damned be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”

MALCOLM

I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.

SIWARD

Some must go off; and yet, by these I see

So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

MALCOLM

Macduff is missing, and your noble son.

ROSS

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt.

He only lived but till he was a man,

The which no sooner had his prowess confirmed

In the unshrinking station where he fought,

But like a man he died.

SIWARD

Then he is dead?

ROSS

Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow

Must not be measured by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

SIWARD

Had he his hurts before?

ROSS

Ay, on the front.

SIWARD

Why then, God’s soldier be he!

Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer death.

And so, his knell is knolled.

MALCOLM

He’s worth more sorrow,

And that I’ll spend for him.

SIWARD

He’s worth no more

They say he parted well and paid his score,

And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

MACDUFF

Hail, King! For so thou art. Behold where stands

The usurper’s cursèd head. The time is free.

I see thee compassed with thy kingdom’s pearl,

That speak my salutation in their minds,

Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:

Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL

Hail, King of Scotland!

MALCOLM

We shall not spend a large expense of time

Before we reckon with your several loves

And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland

In such an honour named. What’s more to do

Which would be planted newly with the time,

As calling home our exiled friends abroad

That fled the snares of watchful tyranny,

Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher and his fiendlike queen—

Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands

Took off her life—this, and what needful else

That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace

We will perform in measure, time, and place.

So, thanks to all at once and to each one,

Whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone.