All language subtitles for Macbeth.2018.720p.WEBRip.x264-[YTS.LT]

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This is the sergeant,

who like a good
and hardy soldier

fought 'gainst my captivity.

You will say to the king

the knowledge of the broil

as thou didst leave it.

Doubtful it stood;

as two spent swimmers

that do cling together
and choke their art.

The merciless Macdonwald

from the western
isles is supplied;

and fortune, on his
damned quarrel smiling,

showed like a rebel's whore.

But all's too weak

for brave Macbeth

well he deserves that name,

disdaining fortune, with
his brandished steel,

which smoked with
bloody execution,

like valor'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 the chaps,

and fixed his head
upon our battlements.

Mark,

King of Scotland, mark.

Sooner justice had
with valor armed

compelled these skipping
kerns to trust their heels.

But the Norwegian lord

surveying vantage with
new supplies of men

began a fresh assault.

Dismayed not
this our captains,

Macbeth and Banquo?

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 memorize another
Golgotha, I cannot tell.

But I am faint,

my gashes cry for help.

Whence camest thou?

From Fife, great king;

where the Norwegian
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.

Great happiness!

No more that Thane of Cawdor

shall deceive our
bosom interest.

Go pronounce his present death,

and with his former
title greet Macbeth.

So foul and fair a
day I have not seen.

Well speak, if you can.

All hail, Macbeth!

Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

All hail, Macbeth!

Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

All hail, Macbeth,

that shalt be king hereafter!

King.

Good sir, why do you start
and seem to fear Things

that sound so fair?

In 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 favors nor your hate.

Lesser than Macbeth,

and greater.

Not so happy, yet much happier.

Thou shalt get kings,

though thou be none.

So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

Banquo and Macbeth,

all hail.

Stay, you imperfect
speakers, tell me more.

I know I'm Thane of
Glamis; but how of Cawdor?

The Thane of Cawdor
lives, and to be king

stands not within the
prospect of belief.

Say from whence you owe
this strange intelligence?

Speak, I charge you.

Whither are they vanished?

Into the air,

and what seemed corporal
melted as breath into the wind.

Would they had stayed!

Your children shall be kings.

- You shall be king.
- Aye.

And Thane of Cawdor
too: went it not so?

To the selfsame tune and words.

Banquo and Macbeth!

All hail.

Banquo and Macbeth.

All hail.

Hail
Macbeth, hail Banquo.

The king hath happily
received, Macbeth,

the news of thy success.

We are sent to give thee
from our royal master thanks.

- Yes.
- Only to herald thee

into his sight, not pay thee.

And, for an earnest
of a greater honor,

he bade me, from him, call thee

- thane...
- Thane of Cawdor.

In which addition,
hail, most worthy thane!

For it is thine.

Can the devil speak true?

The Thane of Cawdor lives.

Why do you dress me
in borrowed robes?

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 labored
in his country's wreck,

I know not.

But treason's capital,
confessed and proved,

have overthrown him.

Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!

The greatest is behind.

Aye, thanks for your pains.

Aye, do you not hope your
children shall be kings,

when those that gave the
Thane of Cawdor to me

promised no less to them?

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 betrays in
deepest consequence.

Two truths are told,

as happy prologues
to the swelling act

of the imperial theme.

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.

If chance will have me king,

why, chance may crown
me without my stir.

Come what come may,

time and the hour runs
through the roughest day.

Worthy Macbeth,
we stay upon your leisure.

Give me your favor.

My dull brain was wrought
with things forgotten.

Let us toward the king.

Think upon what hath chanced,

and, at more time, the
interim having weighed it,

let us speak our free
hearts each to other.

Very gladly.

Till then, enough.

Come, friend.

Is execution
done on Cawdor?

Eery frankly he
confessed his treasons,

implored your highness' pardon

and set forth a deep repentance.

Nothing in his life became
him like the leaving it;

he died as one that had
been studied in his death

to throw away the
dearest thing he owed,

as 'twere a careless trifle.

There's no art to find

the mind's construction
in the face.

He was a gentleman

on whom I built
an absolute trust.

They met
me in the day of success.

And I have learned by
the perfectest 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."

I'm 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 mightst not lose
the dues of rejoicing,

by being ignorant of what
greatness is promised thee.

Lay it to thy heart,

and farewell.

Glamis thou art,

and Cawdor;

and shalt be

what thou art promised.

O worthiest cousin!

The sin of my ingratitude
even now was heavy on me.

Wouldst thou hath less deserved,

that the proportion both
of thanks and payment

might have been mine!

Only I have left to say,

more is thy due
than more than all

can pay.

The service and the
loyalty I owe, in doing it,

pays itself.

Welcome hither.

I have begun to plant thee,

and will labor to make
thee full of growing.

Noble Banquo,

that hast no less
deserved, nor must be known

no less to have done so,

let me enfold thee and
hold thee to my heart.

If I grow,

the harvest is your own.

Sons, kinsmen, thanes,

and you whose places
are the nearest, know

we will establish
our estate upon

our eldest, Malcolm,
whom we name hereafter

The Prince of Cumberland.

Which honor must not
unaccompanied invest him only,

but signs of
nobleness, like stars,

shall shine on all deservers.

From hence to Inverness,

and bind us further to you.

I'll be myself the
harbinger and make joyful

the hearing of my wife
with your approach.

So humbly take my leave.

My worthy Cawdor!

The
Prince of Cumberland!

That is a step on
which I must fall down,

or else overleap,

for in my way it lies.

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.

Hie thee hither,

that I may pour my
spirits in thine ear;

and chastise with the
valor of my tongue

all that impedes thee
from the golden round,

which fate and metaphysical aid

doth seem to have
thee crowned withal.

The king comes here tonight.

Thou art mad to say it!

Is not thy master with him?

Who, were it so, would have
informed for preparation.

So please you, it is true.

Our thane is coming.

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 the access and
passage to remorse,

that no compunctious
visitings of nature

shake my fell purpose.

Great Glamis!

- Worthy Cawdor!
- 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.

My dearest love,

Duncan comes here tonight.

And when goes hence?

Tomorrow, as he purposes.

Never shall sun that morrow see!

Your face,

my thane,

is as a book where men
may read strange matters.

Bear welcome

in your eye,

your hand,

your tongue,

look like the innocent flower,

but be the serpent under it.

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.

We will speak further.

Only look up clear;

to alter favor ever is to fear.

Leave all the rest...

to me.

If it
were done when 'tis done,

then 'twere well it
were done quickly.

If the 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,

weed 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 the inventor.

This even-handed justice

commends the ingredients
of our poisoned chalice

to our own lips.

He's here in double trust;

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.

I have no spur to prick
the sides of my intent,

but only vaulting ambition,
which overleaps itself

and falls on the other.

Why have you left the chamber?

We will proceed no
further in this business.

I have bought golden opinions
from all sorts of people,

which would be worn now
in their newest gloss,

not cast aside so soon.

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 valor

as thou art in desire?

Wouldst thou have that

which thou esteemest
the ornament of life,

and live a coward
in thine own esteem,

letting "I dare not"
wait upon "I would"?

Prithee, peace!

I dare do all that
may become a man;

who dares do more is none.

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.

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.

If we should fail?

We fail!

But screw your courage
to the sticking-place,

and we'll not fail.

When Duncan is asleep
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 drenched natures
lie as in a death,

what cannot you and I perform
upon the unguarded Duncan?

What not put upon
his spongy officers,

who shall bear the guilt
of our great quell?

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

and used their very daggers,
that they have done it?

Who dares receive it other?

I am settled.

Away, and mock the
time with fairest show,

false face must hide

what the false heart doth know.

- Come on.
- Come on, there I go.

How goes the night, boy?

There's husbandry in heaven;

their candles are all out.

A heavy summons lies
like lead upon me,

and yet I would not sleep.

Merciful powers, restrain in me

the cursed thoughts that
nature gives way to in repose!

What, sir, not yet at rest?

The king is a-bed.

He hath been in
unusual pleasure,

and sent forth great
largess to your offices.

This

he greets your wife withal,

by the name of
most kind hostess.

I dream last night
of the weird sisters.

To you they have
showed some truth.

Well, I think not of them.

Yet, when we can entreat
an hour to serve,

we'd spend it in some
words upon that business,

if you would grant the time.

At your kindest leisure.

If you shall cleave to
my consent, when 'tis,

it shall make honor for you.

So I lose none in
seeking to augment it,

but still keep my bosom
franchised and allegiance clear,

I shall be counseled.

Good repose the while!

Thanks, sir, the like to you!

Go bid thy mistress,
when my drink is ready,

she strike upon the bell.

Get thee to bed.

Is this a dagger
which I see before me,

the handle toward my hand?

Come, let me clutch thee.

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-oppressed brain?

I see thee yet,

in form as palpable as
this which now I draw.

Thou marshallest me the
way that I was going;

and such an instrument
I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools
of all the 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 over

the one half world
nature seems dead,

and wicked dreams abuse
the curtained sleep;

and withered murder,

alarmed 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,

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.

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.

My husband!

I have done the deed.

Didst thou not hear a noise?

I heard the owl scream
and the crickets cry.

Did not you speak?

- When?
- Now.

- As I descended?
- Aye.

Hark!

This is a sorry sight.

A foolish thought,
to say a sorry sight.

There's one did
laugh in his 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.

There are two lodged together.

One cried "God bless us!"
and "Amen" the other;

as they had seen me with
these hangman hands.

Listening their fear,
I could not say "Amen,"

when they did say

- "God bless us!"
- Consider it not so deeply.

But wherefore could
not I pronounce "Amen"?

I had most need of blessing,

and "Amen" stuck in my throat.

These deeds must not be
thought after these ways;

so, it will make us mad.

Methought I heard a voice
cry, "Sleep no more!

"Macbeth does murder sleep."

The innocent sleep,

sleep that knits up the
ravelled sleeve of care,

the death of each day's life.

- What do you mean?
- 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."

You do unbend your
noble strength

to think so
brainsickly of things.

Go,

get some water,

and wash this filthy
witness from your hands.

Why did you bring these
daggers from the place?

They must lie there!

Go carry them and smear the
sleepy grooms with blood.

I'll go no more.

I am afraid to think
what I have done;

look on it again

I dare not.

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.

What hands are here?

Ah, they pluck out mine eyes.

Will all great Neptune's ocean

wash this blood
clean from my hand?

How is it with me, when
every noise appalls me?

My hands are of your color.

But I shame to wear
a heart so white.

There's a knocking
at the south entry,

retire we to our chamber.

A little water clears
us of this deed.

How easy is it, then!

Get on your nightgown,

lest occasion call us, and
show us to be watchers.

Be not lost so poorly
in your thoughts.

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

Wake Duncan with thy knocking.

I would thou couldst!

Is thy master stirring?

Right.

Is the king stirring,
worthy thane?

Not yet.

Ah-ah, he did command me
to call timely on him.

I have almost slipped the hour.

I'll bring you to him.

I know this is of
joyful trouble to you;

but yet 'tis one.

The labor we delight
in physics pain.

That is the door.

I'll make so bold as to call,

for 'tis my limited service.

Horror!

- What's the matter?
- Most sacrilegious murder

hath broke ope the
Lord's anointed temple,

and stole thence the
life of the building!

Awake.

Awake!

- Banquo and Donalbain!
- What's the business?

Awake.

Speak.

Speak!

O Banquo.

O Banquo, our royal
master is murdered.

Woe,

alas!

What, in our house?

Too cruel any where.

Had I but died an hour
before this chance,

I had lived a blessed time;

for, from this instant,

there is 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.

What is amiss?

You are, and do not know it:

the spring, the head,
the fountain of your blood is stopped.

The very source
of it is stopped.

Your royal father's murdered.

By whom?

Those of his chamber, as
it seemed, had done it.

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.

Ah yet I do repent
me of my fury,

that I did kill them.

Wherefore did you so?

Who can be wise, amazed,
temperate and furious,

loyal and neutral, in a moment?

No man!

The expedition of
my violent love

outran the pause or 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 colors
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?

Why do we hold our tongues,

when most would claim
this argument for ours?

What may be spoken here,

when our fate hid
by an auger-hole,

may rush and seize us?

Let's away;

our tears are not yet brewed.

Nor our strong sorrow
upon the foot of motion.

Look to the lady.

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 pretense

I fight of treasonous malice.

And so do I.

So all.

Let's briefly put
on manly readiness,

and meet at the hall together.

- Well contented.
- Ay, well contented.

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.

To Ireland, I.

Our separated fortune shall
keep us both the safer.

Where we are, there's
daggers in men's smiles,

the near in blood,
the nearer bloody.

Is't known who did this
more than bloody deed?

Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Alas, the day!

What good could they pretend?

They were suborned.

Malcolm and Donalbain,
the king's two sons,

are stolen away and fled,

which puts upon them
suspicion of the deed.

Against nature still!

Thriftless ambition,
that wilt ravin up

thine own life's means!

Then 'tis most like
the sovereignty

will fall upon Macbeth.

He is already named,

and goes to Scone
to be invested.

Thou hast it now:

king, Cawdor, Glamis,

all.

As the weird women promised,

and, I fear,

thou play'dst most
foully for it.

Yet it was said

I 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.

Here's our chief guest.

Aye.

Tonight we hold a
solemn supper sir,

and I'll request your presence.

Let your highness
command upon me;

to the which my duties

are with a most indissoluble
tie for ever knit.

Fail not our feast.

My lord, I will not.

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?

Ay,

my good lord.

Our time does call upon us.

Farewell.

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.

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.

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 prophet-like
they hailed him father

to a line of kings.

Upon my head they placed
a fruitless crown,

and put a barren
scepter in my gripe,

thence to be wrenched
with an unlineal hand,

no son of mine succeeding.

If be so, for Banquo's
issue have I filed my mind.

For them the gracious
Duncan have I murdered

to make them kings,

the seed of Banquo kings!

Rather than so, come
fate into the list

and champion me
to the utterance!

- My lord.
- Who's there!

Was it not yesterday
we spoke together?

It was, so please your highness.

Both of you know
Banquo was your enemy.

True, my lord.

True, my lord.

So is he mine;

and in such bloody distance,

that every minute of his being

thrusts against my
nearest of life.

We shall, my lord, perform
what you command us.

Though our lives be in...

Your spirits shine through you.

Within this hour at most

I will advise you where
to plant yourselves;

for it must be done tonight,

and something from the palace.

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.

It is concluded.

Banquo, thy soul's flight,

if it find heaven, must
find it out tonight.

Say to the king,

I would attend his leisure

for a few words.

Nought's had,

all's spent,

where our desire is
got without content.

'Tis safer to be
that which we destroy

than by destruction

dwell in doubtful joy.

How now, my lord!

Why do you keep alone?

Things without all remedy
should be without regard.

What's done

is done.

We have scotched the snake,

not killed it.

Ere,

we will sleep in the affliction
of these terrible dreams

that shake us nightly.

Ah, better be with the dead,

and we, to gain our
peace, have sent to peace,

than on the torture of the mind
to lie in restless ecstasy.

Duncan's in his grave.

After life's fitful
fever he sleeps well.

Treason has done his worst.

Nothing can touch him further.

Come on.

Gentle my lord.

Sleek o'er your rugged looks.

Be bright

and jovial among
your guests tonight.

So shall I, love;

and so, I pray, be you.

Let your remembrance
apply to Banquo.

Present him eminence,
both with eye and tongue

and make our faces
vizards to our hearts,

disguising what they are.

O, full of scorpions is
my mind, dear wife!

Thou knowest that Banquo
and his Fleance, lives.

But in them nature's
copy's not eterne.

Mm.

There's comfort yet,
they are assailable.

Ere the bat hath flown
his cloistered flight.

There shall be done a
deed of dreadful note.

What's to be done?

Be innocent of the
knowledge, dearest chuck,

till thou applaud the deed.

Come, seeling night,

scarf up the tender
eye of pitiful day.

And with thy bloody
and invisible hand

cancel and tear to
pieces that great bond

which keeps me pale!

Light thickens,

and the crow makes
wing to the rooky wood.

Good things of day begin
to droop and drowse,

while night's black agents
to their preys do rouse.

Thou marvellest at my words.

But hold thee still;

things bad begun make
strong themselves by ill.

There's blood upon thy face.

'Tis Banquo's then.

'Tis better thee
without than he within.

Is he dispatched?

My lord, his throat is cut;

that I did for him.

Thou art the best
of the cut-throats.

Yet he is good that did
the like for Fleance.

If thou didst it, thou
art the nonpareil.

Most royal sir,

Fleance is 'scaped.

Comes my fit again.

Banquo's

- safe.
- Safe in a ditch he bides,

with 20 trenched
gashes on his head.

Thanks for that.

There the grown serpent lies;

the worm that's fled
hath nature that in time

will venom breed.

No teeth for the present.

Get thee gone.

My royal lord.

You do not give the cheer.

Sweet remembrancer!

Now, good digestion
wait on appetite,

and health on both!

May it please your highness sit.

Here have we now our
country's honor roofed,

were the graced person
of our Banquo present,

who may I rather
challenge for unkindness

than pity for mischance!

His absence, sir, lays
blame upon his promise.

Please your highness to grace
us with your royal company.

The table's full.

Here is a place reserved, sir.

Where?

Here, my good lord.

Which of you have done this?

What, my good lord?

Thou chans't not say I did it.

Never shake thy
gory locks at me.

Gentlemen, rise, his
highness is not well.

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.

- Are you a man?
- Ay,

and a bold one, that
dare look on that

which might appall the devil.

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 after 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.

Prithee, see there!

Behold, look, lo!

How say you?

Why, what care I?

Oh, 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.

What, quite unmanned in folly?

If I stand here, I saw him.

Fie, for shame!

Blood hath been shed ere
now, in the olden time,

ere human 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 20 mortal murders
on their crowns,

and push us from our stools.

This is more strange
than such a murder is.

My worthy lord!

Your noble friends do lack you.

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.

I drink to the general
joy of the 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.

Our duties,
and the pledge.

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!

Think of this, good peers,

but as a thing of
custom, 'tis no other;

only it spoils the
pleasure of the time.

What man dare,

I dare.

Approach thou like the
rugged Russian bear,

the armed rhinoceros,
or the 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!

Why,

so being gone, I am a man again.

Pray thee,

sit still.

You have displaced the mirth,

broke the good meeting
with most admired disorder.

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.

What sights, my lord?

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!

Good night.

And better health
attend his majesty!

A kind good night to all.

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 magot-pies
and choughs and rooks

brought forth the
secretest man of blood.

What is the night?

Almost at odds with morning,

which is which.

How sayest thou, that
Macduff denies his person

at our great bidding?

Did you send to him, sir?

I hear it by the
way; but I will send.

There's not one of
them but in his house

I keep a servant fee'd.

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.

You lack the season
of all natures...

sleep.

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.

I conjure you,

by that which you profess,

howe'er you come to
know it, answer me.

Speak,
demand, we'll answer.

There's
knocking at the gate.

There's knocking at the gate.

Macbeth!

Macbeth, Macbeth beware Macduff,

beware the Thane of Fife.

There's
knocking at the gate.

Be bloody,
bold, and resolute;

laugh to scorn the power of man,

for none of woman born
shall harm 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 shall not live;

that I may tell
pale-hearted fear it lies,

and sleep in spite of thunder.

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.

That will never be.

Who can impress the forest,

bid the tree unfix
his earth-bound root?

Sweet bodements good!

And 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?

Seek
to know no more.

I will be satisfied.

Deny me this, and an
eternal curse fall on you!

Show his eyes,

grieve his heart;

come like shadows, so depart!

There's knocking at the gate.

Where are they?

Gone?

There's knocking at the gate.

There's knocking at the gate.

Let this pernicious hour

stand aye accursed
in the calendar!

There's knocking at the gate.

There's knocking at the gate.

My lord.

Macduff is fled to England.

Fled to England!

Ay, my good lord.

Time,

thou anticipatest
my dread exploits.

The flighty purpose
never is overtook

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 the edge of the sword

his wife, his babes, and
all unfortunate souls

that trace him in his line.

No boasting like the fool;

this deed I'll do before
this purpose cool.

I have two
nights watched with you,

but can perceive no
truth in your report.

I have seen her
rise from her bed,

throw her night-gown upon her,

unlock her closet,

take forth paper, fold it,
write upon it, read it,

afterwards seal it, and
again return to bed;

yet all this while
in a most fast sleep.

A great perturbation in nature.

In this slumbery agitation,

besides her walking and
other actual performances,

what, at any time,
have you heard her say?

That, sir, which I will
not report after her

having no witness to
confirm my speech.

Lo you, here she comes!

This is her very guise;

and, upon my life, fast asleep.

Observe her, stand close.

Yet here's a spot.

Out,

damned spot!

Out, I say!

One,

two.

Why, then, 'tis time to do it.

Hell

is murky.

Fie, my lord, fie!

A soldier, and afeard?

What need we fear who knows it,

when none can hold
our power to account?

Yet who would have
thought the old man

to have had so
much blood in him.

The Thane of Fife had a wife.

Where is she now?

Go to, go to; you have
known what you should not.

She has spoke what
she should not,

I am sure of that.

Heaven knows what she has known.

Here's the smell
of the blood still.

All the perfumes of Arabia

will not sweeten this
little hand.

What a sigh is there!

The heart is sorely charged.

This disease is
beyond my practice.

Wash your hands,

put on your nightgown;
look not so pale

I tell you yet again,

Banquo's buried;

he cannot come out on's grave.

To bed.

To bed!

There's knocking at the gate.

Come!

Come...

give me your hand.

What's done

cannot be

undone.

To bed.

To bed.

To bed.

To bed.

To bed.

To bed.

Will she go now to bed?

Directly.

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.

I have words that will
be howled in the desert air,

where hearing should
not latch them.

Let not your ears despise
my tongue for ever,

which shall possess them
with the heaviest sound

that ever yet they heard.

I guess at it.

Your castle is surprised;

your wife and babes
savagely slaughtered.

To relate the manner,
were, on the quarry

of these murdered deer,

to add the death of you.

My children too?

Wife, children, servants,

all that could be found.

And I must be from thence.

My wife killed too?

I have said.

No!

Be comforted.

Now let's make us medicines
of our great revenge,

to cure this deadly grief.

He has no children.

All my pretty ones?

Did you say all?

O hell-kite!

All my pretty chickens and
their dam at one fell swoop?

Dispute it like a man.

I shall do so!

But I must also
feel it as a man.

I cannot but
remember such things

that were most precious to me.

Did heaven look on and
would not take their part?

Sinful Macduff,

they were all struck for thee!

Naught that I am,

not for their own
demerits, but for mine,

fell slaughter on their souls.

Heaven rest them now.

Be this the whetstone
of your sword.

Let grief convert to anger;

blunt not the heart, enrage it.

O,

I could play the
woman with mine eyes

and braggart with my tongue.

But, gentle heavens,

cut short all intermission;

front to front bring thou this
fiend of Scotland and myself.

Upon my sword's length set him.

If he 'scape,

heaven forgive him too!

This tune goes manly.

Come, go we to the king.

Our power is ready.

Our lack is nothing
but our leave.

Macbeth is ripe for the shaking,

and the powers above put
on their instruments.

Receive what cheer you may.

The night is long that
never finds the day.

The English power is near,

led on by Malcolm and Macduff.

Revenges burn in them;
for their dear causes

which the bleeding
and the grim alarm

excite the mortified man.

What does the tyrant?

Great Dunsinane he
strongly fortifies.

Some say he's mad;

others that lesser hate him
do call it valiant fury.

But, for certain,

he cannot buckle his
distempered cause

within the belt of rule.

Now does he feel His secret
murders sticking on his hands.

Those he commands
move only in command,

nothing in love.

Now does he feel his title
hang loose about him,

like a giant's robe
upon a dwarfish thief.

Bring me
no more reports;

let them fly all.

Till Birnam wood
remove to Dunsinane,

I cannot taint with fear.

What's the boy Malcolm?

Was he not born of woman?

Then fly false thanes,

and mingle with the
English epicures.

The mind I sway by
and the heart I bear

shall never sag with
doubt nor shake with fear.

The English force,
so please you.

Devil damn thee black,
thou cream-faced loon!

Take thy face hence!

Seyton!

I am sick at heart
when I behold.

Seyton, I say!

This push

will cheer me ever,

or disseat me now.

I have lived long enough.

My way of life is
fallen into the sear,

the yellow leaf.

And that which should
accompany old age as

honor, love,

obedience,

troops of friends, I
must not look to have.

But, in their stead,

curses,

not loud but deep,

mouth-honor,

breath, which the poor
heart would fain deny,

and dare not.

Seyton!

What is your gracious pleasure?

What news more?

All is confirmed, my lord,

which was reported.

I'll fight till from my
bones my flesh be hacked.

Give me my armor!

'Tis not needed y...

Send out more horses.

Skirr the country round.

Hang those that talk of fear.

Give me mine armor.

How does your patient, doctor?

Not so sick, my lord,

as she is troubled with
thick coming fancies

that keep her from her rest.

Mm.

Cure her of that.

Canst thou not minister
to a mind diseased,

pluck from the memory
a rooted sorrow,

raze out the written
troubles of the brain

and with some sweet
oblivious antidote

cleanse the stuffed bosom
of that perilous stuff

that weighs upon the heart?

Therein the patient must
minister to himself.

Throw physic to the dogs;

I'll none of it.

Come,

put mine armor on.

Give me my staff.

Seyton, send out.

Doctor, the thanes fly from me.

Come, sir, dispatch.

If thou couldst, doctor,

cast the water of my
land, find her disease,

and purge it to a sound
and pristine health,

I would applaud thee
to the very echo

that should applaud again.

Pull it off, I say.

What rhubarb,

cyme, or what purgative drug,

would scour these English hence?

Hear'st thou of them?

Ay, my good lord;

your royal preparation
makes us hear something.

Mm.

I will not be afraid
of death and bane,

till Birnam forest
come to Dunsinane.

Were I from Dunsinane
away and clear,

profit again should
hardly draw me here.

What wood is this?

The wood of Birnam.

Let every soldier

hew him down a bough
and bear't before him.

Thereby shall we shadow
the numbers of our host

and make discovery
err in report of us.

- Report of us.
- It shall be done.

We learn no other

but the confident tyrant
keeps still in Dunsinane,

and will endure our
setting down before it.

'Tis his main hope.

For where there is
advantage to be given,

both more and less have
given him the revolt.

And none serve with him
but constrained things

whose hearts are absent too.

Hang out our banners
on the outward walls.

The cry is still "They come."

Our castle's strength will
laugh a siege to scorn.

Here let them lie till famine
and the ague eat them up.

Were they not forced with
those that should be ours,

we might have met them
dareful beard-to-beard

and beat them backward home.

What is that noise?

I've almost forgot
the taste of fears;

the time has been, my
senses would have cooled

to hear a night-shriek.

I have supped full with horrors.

Direness, familiar to
my slaughterous thoughts

cannot once start me.

Wherefore was that cry?

The queen, my lord...

is dead.

She should have died hereafter;

there would have been
a time for such a word.

- My lord.
- Thou comest to use

thy tongue thy story quickly.

Gracious my lord.

I should report that
which I say I saw,

but know not how to do it.

Well, say.

As I did stand my
watch upon the hill,

I looked toward Birnam,

and anon, methought,
the wood began to move.

Liar!

And slave!

Let me endure your
wrath, if it be not so.

Within this three mile may
you see it coming, I say,

a moving grove.

If thou speak'st false,

upon the next tree
shalt thou hang alive

till famine cling thee.

If thy speech be sooth,

I care not if thou
dost for me as much.

Fear not,

till Birnam wood

do come to Dunsinane.

And now a wood comes
toward Dunsinane.

Arm!

Arm and out!

If this which he
avouches does appear,

there is nor flying
hence nor tarrying here.

I gin to be aweary of the sun,

and wish the estate of
the world were now undone.

Ring the alarm-bell!

Blow, wind.

Come, wrack.

At least we'll die with
harness on our back.

They have tied me to a stake.

I cannot fly,

but bear-like, I must
fight the course.

What's he that was
not born of woman?

Such a one am I
to fear, or none.

What is thy name?

Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

No.

Though thou callest
thyself a hotter name

than any is in hell.

My name is Macbeth.

The devil himself
could not pronounce

a title more
hateful to mine ear.

No,

nor more fearful.

Thou wast born of woman.

Swords I smile at,

weapons laugh to scorn,

brandished by man
that's of a woman born.

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.

This way, my lord.

The castle is gently rendered.

The tyrant's people on
both sides do fight.

The day almost itself
professes yours,

and little is to do.

Enter, sir, the castle.

Why should I play the Roman fool

and die on mine own sword?

Whiles I see lives,

the gashes do better upon them.

Turn hell-hound.

Turn!

Of all men else I
have avoided thee.

But get thee back;

my soul is too much charged
with blood of thine already.

I have no words.

My voice is in my sword.

Thou losest labor.

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 charmed life,

which must not yield
to one of woman born.

Despair thy charm,

and let the angel whom thou
still hast served tell thee,

Macduff was from his mother's
womb untimely ripped.

Accursed be that tongue
that tells me so,

for it hath cow'd my
better part of man!

I'll not fight with thee.

Then yield thee, coward,

and live to be the show
and gaze of the time.

We'll have thee,

as our rarer monsters are,

painted on a pole and underwrit,

"Here may you see the tyrant."

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.

Lay on, Macduff,

and damned be him
that first cries,

"Hold, enough!"

Tomorrow,

and tomorrow,

and tomorrow,

creeps in this petty
pace from day to day

to the last syllable
of recorded time,

and all our yesterdays
have lighted fools

the way to dusty death.

Out,

out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow,

a poor player that struts

and frets his hour
upon the stage

and then is heard no more.

It is a tale told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,

signifying...

nothing.

Hail,
King of Scotland!

Hail, King of Scotland!

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