The weird susters, hand in hand, Postaers 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
Diapositiva: 2
so foul and fair a day I have not seen.
How far is ’t called to Forres?—What are theseSo withered and so wild in their attire,That look not like th' inhabitants 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 layingUpon her skinny lips. You should be women,And yet your beards forbid me to interpret.
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All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of glamis
Speak, If you can: What are you?
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!
My dear Macbeth, why do you look so startled and afraid of these nice things they're saying? (to the witches Tell me honestly, are you illusions, or are you really what you seem to be? you've greeted my noble friend with honors and talk of a future so glorious that you've made him speechless. But you don't say anything to me. if you can see the future and say how things will turn out, tell me. I don't want your flavors and i'm not afraid of your hatred.
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Hail!
Hail!
Hail!
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Not so happy, yet much Happier
Lesser than Macbeth and greater
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo