The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 574
Thunder. Enter the three Witches
First Witch
Where hast thou been, sister?
Where have you been, sister?
Second Witch
Killing swine.
Killing pigs.
Third Witch
Sister, where thou?
Where were you killing them, sister?
First Witch
A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:--
'Give me,' quoth I:
'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her lap.
That she ate, and ate, and ate.
‘Give me some,’ I said.
‘Get out of here, witch!’ the fat hag said.
Her husband had gone to see Allepo, the master
of the Tiger. I will sail there in a vessel with holes,
and like a tail-less rat,
I’ll do, and I’ll do, and I’ll do harm.
Second Witch
I'll give thee a wind.
I will provide you with a wind!
First Witch
Thou'rt kind.
You are kind.
Third Witch
And I another.
I will give you a wind, as well.
First Witch
I myself have all the other,
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary se'nnights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.
I have all the other winds,
and I have the ports they blow in.
I have all the places that they know,
and I have the ship’s direction.
I will drain the sailor dry as hay:
sleep will not come night or day
to the roof of his home.
He will live like a man without:
he will go for weeks without rest,
and he will fade and become weak and weary.
But his ship will not be lost—
it will be tossed on a stormy sea.
Look here at what I have.
Second Witch
Show me, show me.
Show me, show me!
First Witch
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
I have a sailor’s thumb who died in a shipwreck
as he was coming home.
Drum within
Third Witch
A drum, a drum!
Macbeth doth come.
A drum, a drum!
Macbeth is coming!
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.
The three witches, hand in hand,
who know all of sea and land,
thus do go about and about:
three times to you, and three times to me
and three times once more makes nine.
Peace! That spell has been cast.
Enter MACBETH and BANQUO
MACBETH
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
I have never seen a day so beautiful and ugly at the same time.
BANQUO
How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
That look not like the inhabitants o' the 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 chappy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
How far is it to a place called Forres? What are these
creatures so withered and wild looking that
do not even look like they belong on this earth?
And yet they are on it. Are you alive? Or are you
something that we should wonder about? You seem
to understand me, since you are putting your gnarled
fingers to your thin lips. You seem to be women,
but your beards make me think that you are not.
MACBETH
Speak, if you can: what are you?
Speak, if you can. What are you?
First Witch
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Thane of Glamis!
Second Witch
All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to you, Thane of Cawdor!
Third Witch
All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!
All hail, Macbeth, you will be king someday!
BANQUO
Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair? I' the 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.
My good man, why do you look so upset and
afraid to hear things that sound so good? Tell
me the truth, are you illusions, or are you real?
You greet my friend here with grace and great predictions
of having nobility and someday being king.
He looks as if he is in a spell! But you do not speak to me.
If you can tell the future and say what will happen to me,
then tell me. I do not beg and I am not afraid
of your favors or your hate.
First Witch
Hail!
Hail!
Second Witch
Hail!
Hail!
Third Witch
Hail!
Hail!
First Witch
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
You will be less than Macbeth, but greater.
Second Witch
Not so happy, yet much happier.
You will not be so happy, but much happier than Macbeth.
Third Witch
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
Your sons will be kings, although you will not.
All hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
First Witch
Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
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.
Wait, you have not told the whole story—say more.
I know that by inheritance I am the Thane of Glamis.
But how could I be Thane of Cawdor? The Thane
of Cawdor lives. And for me to be a wealthy gentleman,
and a king, as well—that makes no more sense than
my becoming the Thane of Cawdor. Tell me how
you know these things? And why have you stopped us
in this field with such a prophetic greeting?
I demand you say more!
Witches vanish
BANQUO
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?
The earth has bubbles, just like water does.
These spirits were like those bubbles. Where did they go?
MACBETH
Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!
They vanished into the air, and what seemed solid
Faded into nothing. I wish 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?
Did we really see them? Or have we been
drugged, and are hallucinating?
MACBETH
Your children shall be kings.
Your children will be kings.
BANQUO
You shall be king.
You will be king.
MACBETH
And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
And Thane of Cawdor, too. Didn’t they say that?
BANQUO
To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
That’s what I heard. Who’s here?
Enter ROSS and ANGUS
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' the selfsame day,
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.
The king was happy to hear of your success,
Macbeth, and when he heard of your feats
in the fight, he was so amazed and full of praise
that he wondered what should be yours and what
should be his. The tale rendered him speechless,
and then he heard about the rest of the day—how
you found yourself fighting the strong Norwegian
soldiers with no fear of death although images of it
were all around you. Like a noisy hail storm,
the messengers arrived one after another
singing your praises to the king.
ANGUS
We are sent
To give thee from our royal master thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
We have been sent to give you the king’s thanks
We are not to pay you, but must bring you to him.
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.
And for a hint at the great honor you will receive,
he told me, from him, to call you Thane of Cawdor:
and also to hail you, worthy thane!
The title is yours.
BANQUO
What, can the devil speak true?
What? Does the devil speak the truth?
MACBETH
The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
In borrow'd robes?
The Thane of Cawdor lives—why do you give me
the title that is his?
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 labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
Have overthrown him.
He was the thane and is still alive,
but he has been judged not worthy to live.
Whether he joined with those of Norway,
or provided the rebels with secret help and advantage,
or did both, it doesn’t matter. He played a part
in his country’s destruction. His treason
has been confessed and proved
and it has overthrown him.
MACBETH
[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind.
[Aside] First Glamis, and now the Thane of Cawdor!
The most unlikely has passed.
To ROSS and ANGUS
Thanks for your pains.
Thank you for your trouble.
To BANQUO
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
Promised no less to them?
Do you not now have hope that your children
will be kings, when those that gave the title of
Thane of Cawdor 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.
That prophecy, if trusted, might
inspire passion in you to become king
as well as the Thane of Cawdor. But, it’s strange:
often, in order to win our trust so they can harm us,
the instruments of darkness will tell us a little
of the truth, only to betray us and cause
deep consequence.
Cousins, may I speak with you?
MACBETH
[Aside] Two truths are told,
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.
[Aside] Two truths have been told, and
are happy indications that I may become king.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Aside
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 smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
But what is not.
This supernatural news can’t be bad,
and it can’t be good. If bad, then why
has it given me the promise of success
beginning in the truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.
If good, why do I yield to a suggestion
whose horrid image unfixes my hair
<
br /> and causes my heart to pound harder in my chest
than what is natural? My present fears
are less that horrible imaginings:
My thought, whose murder is still just a fantasy,
Shakes me so that functioning as a man
is smothered in things that are supposed.
Nothing is, only what is not.
BANQUO
Look, how our partner's rapt.
Look at how our friend is distracted.
MACBETH
[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
Without my stir.
[Aside] If chance is to have me be king, then chance will crown me
without my doing a thing.
BANQUO
New honors come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
But with the aid of use.
New honors have come upon him, like new clothes
that only fit after they have been worn awhile.
MACBETH
[Aside] Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
[Aside] What ever will happen will happen,
time keeps on even through the roughest day.
BANQUO
Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
Good Macbeth, we wait for you.
MACBETH
Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains