Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 5

“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 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!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee (my dearest partner of greatness) that thou might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis’d thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.”

"They met me on the day of my victory; and I have learned from the most reliable evidence that they have knowledge beyond anything human. When I was burning with desire to question them further, they turned themselves into air, and vanished into it. While I stood lost in wonder at it, messengers arrived from the King, who greeted me as 'Thane of Cawdor'; and that was the very title with which these Weird Sisters had greeted me before, and they pointed me toward the future with 'Hail, king that you will be!' I thought it right to pass this on to you, my dearest partner in greatness, so that you would not lose your rightful share of joy by not knowing what greatness has been promised to you. Take it to heart, and goodbye."

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promis’d. 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 crown’d withal.

You are Thane of Glamis, and of Cawdor; and you will be what you were promised. Yet I fear your nature; it is too full of the milk of human kindness to take the quickest route. You would like to be great; you are not without ambition, but you lack the wickedness that should go with it. What you want badly, you want to get virtuously; you would not cheat, and yet you want to win unfairly. You would like, great Glamis, the thing that calls out, "This is what you must do, if you want me"; and the thing you are more afraid to do than you wish left undone. Hurry here, so that I may pour my spirit into your ear, and beat down with the courage of my tongue everything that keeps you from the golden crown, which fate and supernatural help seem set on crowning you with.

What is your tidings?

What is your news?

The King comes here tonight.

The King is coming here tonight.

Thou’rt mad to say it. Is not thy master with him? who, were’t so, Would have inform’d for preparation.

You must be mad to say so. Isn't your master with him? If that were the case, he would have sent word so we could prepare.

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.

If you please, it is true. Our thane is on his way. One of my companions outran him, and, almost dead from lack of breath, he had hardly enough breath left to deliver his message.

Give him tending. He brings great news.

See that he is looked after. He brings great news.

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 Th’ effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, And take my milk for gall, your 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!”

Even the raven is hoarse that croaks the deadly arrival of Duncan under my castle walls. Come, you spirits that attend on deadly thoughts, strip me of my womanhood, and fill me from head to toe, right to the brim, with the cruellest cruelty! Thicken my blood, block up every way in and out for pity, so that no natural pangs of conscience shake my savage purpose, or come between it and its carrying out. Come to my woman's breasts and take my milk for bile, you murdering agents, wherever in your invisible forms you attend on nature's harm. Come, thick night, and wrap yourself in the darkest smoke of hell, so that my sharp knife does not see the wound it makes, nor heaven peer through the blanket of the dark to cry, "Stop, stop!"

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.

Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor! Greater than both, by the greeting still to come! Your letters have carried me beyond this unknowing present, and I feel the future in this very moment.

My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.

My dearest love, Duncan is coming here tonight.

And when goes hence?

And when does he leave?

Tomorrow, as he purposes.

Tomorrow, as he intends.

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.

Oh, the sun will never see that tomorrow! Your face, my thane, is like a book where people can read strange things. To fool the company, look as the occasion expects; carry welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. The man who is coming must be seen to; and you will put tonight's great business into my hands, and it will give all our nights and days to come nothing but royal power and command.

We will speak further.

We will talk about it further.

Only look up clear; To alter favour ever is to fear. Leave all the rest to me.

Only keep your expression bright and open; to change your face is always dangerous. Leave all the rest to me.