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Mitchell Namie-Macbeth
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Act 1 Scene 3
Storyboard Text
A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.
...Peace! The charm’s wound up.
What are theseSo withered and so wild in their attire
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!
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanished?
Witches Vanish
Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?
Into the air, and what seemed corporal Melted, as breath into the wind.
The thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me in borrowed robes?
The king hath happily received the news of thy success Macbeth,. ...He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor
Who was the thane lives yet, But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose.
What, can the devil speak true?
Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen.
This supernatural soliciting cannot be ill, cannot be good. If good, why do I yield to that suggestion whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
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