Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 6

This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses.

This castle stands in a pleasant spot. The air quickly and sweetly commends itself to our delicate senses.

This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ’d The air is delicate.

This summer visitor, the martlet that nests in churches, proves by the buildings he loves to live in that the breath of heaven smells invitingly here. There is no projecting ledge, decorated band, buttress or convenient corner where this bird has not built his hanging bed and breeding cradle. I have noticed that wherever they breed and gather most, the air is fine.

See, see, our honour’d hostess!— The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God ’ild us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.

Look, look, our honoured hostess! The love that follows us is sometimes a trouble to us, yet we still thank it as love. By this I am teaching you to ask God to reward us for the trouble we cause you, and to thank us for putting you to such bother.

All our service, In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business to contend Against those honours deep and broad wherewith Your Majesty loads our house: for those of old, And the late dignities heap’d up to them, We rest your hermits.

All our service, even if every part of it were done twice over and then doubled again, would be a poor and trifling effort set against the deep, broad honours with which Your Majesty loads our house. For the older honours, and the recent titles piled on top of them, we remain hermits praying for you.

Where’s the Thane of Cawdor? We cours’d him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest tonight.

Where is the Thane of Cawdor? We chased at his heels, meaning to arrive ahead of him and prepare his lodging, but he rides well, and his great love, sharp as his spur, has helped him reach home before us. Beautiful and noble hostess, we are your guest tonight.

Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your Highness’ pleasure, Still to return your own.

Your servants always hold their household, themselves, and all they own on account, ready to present their reckoning whenever Your Highness pleases, so as to give you back what is your own.

Give me your hand; Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, And shall continue our graces towards him. By your leave, hostess.

Give me your hand. Take me to my host. We love him greatly, and shall go on showing him our favour. With your permission, hostess.