Macbeth Act 1 - Scene 3
Testo Storyboard
- Where hast thou been, sister?
- Killing swine.
- Sister, where thou?
- A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap and munched and munched and munched. "Give me," quoth I. "Aroint thee, witch." the rump-fed runnion cries.
- I'll give thee a wind.
- And I another.
- Speak if you can. What are you?
- How far is 't called to Forres?---What are these, so withered, and so wild in their attire, that look not like th' ingabitants 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.
- Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear things that do sound fair?---I' th' name of truth, are you fantastical, or that indeed which outwardly you 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.
- 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!
- Lesser than Macbeth and greater.
- Not so happy, yet much happier.
- Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. So hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
- 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.
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